Tamawaca folks : a summer comedy

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Tamawaca Folks

A
Summer Comedy

By JOHN ESTES COOKE

^c (D-MI^^^I^^ 4"'

Publishers

THE TAMAWACA PRESS
U. S. A.

Copyrighted 1907 by
G. J. WILSON

List of Chapters

PAGE

I The Lawyer. ... 9

II Jim 18

III Wilder .... 31

IV Just Girls .... 53

V Getting Acquainted . . 66

VI Found Out ... 80

VII The Meeting ... 96

VIII Something Doing . . 114

IX Developing the Negative . 122

X Jim Gets a Raise . . 135

XI Rough-housing . . . 152

XII Mrs. Herringford's Party . 161

XIII Reconciliation . . 172

XIV Of Course 184

Tamawaca Folks

EXPLANATIVE.

The author begs to state that what-
ever is contained in this modest vol-
ume has been written in a spirit of the
broadest goodfellowship, and with
malice toward none. He has met odd
and entertaining people in all quar-
ters of the world and has brought
them together in "Tamawaca Folks"
merely that he might weave them into
his little romance, and with no
thought of being in any way personal.
Therefore, since these are many and
variant types and can have no indi-
viduality for that reason, the writer
begs his reader not to attempt to fit
any of the fictitious characters to liv-
ing persons, lest your neighbor try to
fit one of my masquerade costumes to
you — which would be an impertinence
I am sure you would not like. The
temptation, I admit, is natural, be-
cause the people portrayed are all hu-
man and even their composites have

prototypes in nearly every locality.
But desist, I entreat you.

Tamawaca exists, and is as beauti-
ful as I have described it. I chose it
as the scene of my story because I
once passed an entire summer there
and was fascinated by its incompa-
rable charm. The middle West has no
spot that can compete with it in love-
liness.

TAMAWACA FOLKS

CHAPTER I.

THE LAWYER.

When Jarrod finally sold out the
Crosbys he had a chance to breathe
freely for the first time in years. The
Crosbys had been big ranch owners
and herders, mine owners, timber and
mill owners, bankers, brokers, bucket-
shop manipulators and confirmed
bull-dozers and confidence-men. They
played the game for big stakes always
and won by sheer nerve and audacity.

Jarrod was their lawyer and they
kept him in hot water every minute.
They had a habit of rounding up
other folks' cattle, cutting other peo-
ple's timber, jumping claims, tap-
ping mines and misbehaving gener-
ally. And Jarrod had to straighten
out these misdeeds and find a way to
keep his clients from behind the bars.

io ^famawaca Folks

Old man Crosby, who had been
shot in the hip in a raid, ran the Bank
of Oklahoma, and ran it so crookedly
that Jarrod was often in despair. No
one would believe a Crosby under
oath, while Jarrod was acknowl-
edged by even his enemies to be
square as a die and fair as the scales
of justice. So his position was ex-
tremely difficult. He saved the Cros-
bys from their misdeeds for years, by
dint of hard work and constant di-
plomacy, and at last, when a thous-
and penalties confronted them and
could not be staved off much longer,
the lawyer managed to sell for them
their entire holdings and induced
them to retire from business in gen-
eral and lawlessness in particular.

When it was all over Jarrod went
home to Kansas City, nodded to his
wife, looked curiously and with some
interest at his children, and then sat
down in an easy chair and sighed. It
was all new and strange to him — this

Lawyer 11

being "at home" — and he was n't sure
at first whether he liked it or not.

Mrs. Jarrod liked it, though, and
made much of him, so that gradually
his uneasiness wore off and he settled
down meekly to the practice of law
in general. Four or five hours a day
he spent in his office, listening to the
unimportant grievances of common
folks and striving to keep his nerves
from jumping.

He had n't thought to feather his
nest, yet the Crosbys had good-na-
turedly tossed a lump of money at
him and he had accepted it. But
a nervous man must keep busy,
even when those same nerves oper-
ate to keep him cold and quiet
as an alternative to dancing and
yelling like a madman. So Jar-
rod "held on to himself" and tried
to enjoy his devoted family and the
petty details which were all that re-
mained of a business too long neg-
lected to serve those wild Crosbys.

12 Tamawaca Folks

The reaction had set in following his
recent months of hard work, and be-
fore many days he felt himself both
physically and mentally exhausted
and knew that unless he deliberately
created a diversion his run-down con-
stitution would be likely to involun-
tarily create one that he would n't
like.

As fate would have it, on a balmy
spring day he met an old friend — a
Dr. Brush — who was a prominent and
highly respected clergyman. Said the
doctor :

"You need a change, Jarrod. Why
don't you go to some quiet, pleasant
summer resort, and loaf until fall'?"

"Where can I find such a place?"
asked Jarrod.

"Why, any of the Lake Michigan
resorts are desirable — Tamawaca,
Bay View, Charlevoix or Petoskey.
I've been to Tamawaca a couple of
summers myself, and like it immense-
ly. It is n't so fashionable as Charle-

T'he Lawyer 13

voix and Petoskey, but it is the most
beautiful place I have ever seen, bar

none.':

"What's there?" enquired Jarrod,
listlessly.

"Lake Michigan, to begin with;
and Tamawaca Pool, which is really a
lovely inland lake. You'll find there
good fishing and bathing, a noble
forest running down to the water's
edge, pretty cottages nestled among
the trees, lots of ozone, and quiet till
you can't rest."

"Eh?"

"I mean quiet so you can rest."

"It sounds promising," said Jar-
rod. "Guess I'll go. My wife re-
marked yesterday we ought to escape
the summer's heat on the children's
account. This idea will please her —
and it pleases me. I used to fish when
I was a boy. And hunt. How's the
hotel, Brush?"

"Bad as possible. Take a cottage.
That's the only way to enjoy life."

14 ^famawaca Folks

"How can I get a cottage?"

"Oh, ask Wilder, when you get to
Tamawaca. There are always cot-
tages to rent. But stay! you might
take Grant's place. He's a St. Louis
man, and I understand his cottage is
for rent. I'll write and ask him, if
you like."

"Do, old fellow. And thank you
very much."

He went home and told Mrs. Jar-
rod, who was delighted with the plan.

"Where did you say it was?" she
asked.

"On Lake Michigan, somewhere. I
forget the name of the place."

"How do you get there?"

"I did n't enquire."

"And whose cottage are you going
to rent?"

"Why, — it belongs to a man in St.
Louis. Dr. Brush knows him."

Mrs. Jarrod asked no more ques-
tions, but she straightway put on her
bonnet and called upon Mrs. Brush.

Lawyer

In an hour she knew all that was nec-
essary about Tamawaca.

The clergyman got a reply, in
course of time, from Grant of St.
Louis. His cottage was in Wilder's
hands to rent. Jarrod must see Wild-
er about it as soon as he got to Tama-
waca. It was all furnished and ready
to move into.

"Who is Wilder?" Jarrod asked his
friend.

"Wilder! Oh, I forgot you don't
know Tamawaca," said Dr. Brush.
"Therefore you don't know Wilder.
Wilder is Tamawaca."

"I see," returned Jarrod, nodding.

"Oh, no you don't. You think you
see, I've no doubt. But there is only
one Wilder upon earth, and perhaps
that is fortunate. You've been in
with those pirate Crosbys for years.
Well, Wilder is the Crosby — in other
words the pirate — of Tamawaca. See
now?"

"He runs things, eh?"

16 ^famawaca Folks

"Yes ; for Wilder. A charming fel-
low, by the way. Looks like a cherub,
and acts like "

"You interest me," said Jarrod,
brightening. "I'm glad I'm going to
Tamawaca.

A few days later the Jarrods — bag
and baggage, parents and children —
travelled up to Chicago and landed in
the morning at the Auditorium An-
nex. A little fat man stood before
the counter in front of Jarrod and
winked saucily at the clerk. His face
was moon-shaped and rosy, guiltless
of whisker, and bore an expression at
once gentle and whimsical.

"Gimme the best room you have,"
he called out, while scribbling his
name on the register.

"Ah, a twenty-dollar suite?" asked
the clerk, cheerfully.

"Hear me out!" retorted the little
man. "Gimme the best room you
have for four dollars a day."

"Oh," said the clerk, his jaw drop-

Lawyer 17

ping. "Here, front! show the gentle-
man up to 1906. Any baggage, sir?"

"Just my wife," sighed the little
man, with another wink, and a stout
lady of ample proportions grabbed
his arm and whisked him away. She
did n't seem at all offended, but
laughed pleasantly and said: "Now,
George, behave yourself!"

Jarrod looked at the register. The
little fat man had written: "Geo. B.
Still, Quincy, 111."

The Jarrods shopped during the
day, and bought themselves and the
children cool things for summer. In
the evening they went down to the
river and boarded the big steel steam-
er that was to carry them to their des-
tination.

CHAPTER II.

JIM.

A whistle blew; the little tug
strained at its cable, and snorting and
puffing in the supreme struggle it
drew the great steamer "Plymouth"
away from its dock to begin its jour-
ney down the river to the open lake
and thence, discarding its tug, across
mighty Michigan to Iroquois Bay,
Tamawaca, and the quaint city of
Kochton.

The passengers thronged both the
ample decks to catch the cooling
breeze that came as soon as they were
in motion, for the day had been es-
pecially warm for June. The older
folks drew long lines of chairs to the
rails, while the young people walked
up and down, chattering and gay. To
nearly all the voyage meant the be-
ginning of a holiday, and hearts were
18

Jim 19

light and faces eager and expectant.

Jarrod had no sooner located his
family in a comfortable corner than
he was attracted by a young man who
sauntered by.

"Why, Jim, is it you?' he ex-
claimed, jumping up to hold out a
hand in greeting.

The other paused, as if astonished,
but then said in a cordial tone :

"You here, Mr. Jarrod?"

He was a tall, athletic looking fel-
low, with a fine face, a straightfor-
ward look in his eyes and a clean-cut
air about him that was pleasant to
behold. Jarrod had recognized him
as the only son of a man he had known
in St. Louis — a man very prominent
and wealthy, he remembered.

"What are you doing here, Jim?"
he enquired.

"Why, I live in Chicago now, you
know," was the reply.

"You do?"

"Did n't you know, sir? I left

2O ^famawaca Folks

home over a year ago. I'm hoeing my
own row now, Mr. Jarrod."

"What's wrong, Jim?'

"Father and I could n't agree. He
wanted me to take to the patent medi-
cine business, because he has made a
fortune in it."

"Very natural," nodding.

"The poor father suffers a good
deal from rheumatism, you know; so
as soon as I left college he proposed
to turn over to me the manufacture
and sale of his great rheumatism
cure."

"Ah."

"And I balked, Mr. Jarrod. I said
the proprietor of a rheumatism cure
had no business to suffer from rheum-
atism, or else no business to sell the
swindling remedy."

"To be sure. I know your father,
Jim, so I can imagine what happened,
directly you made that statement.
Did he give you anything when you
— er — parted?"

Jim 21

"Not a sou. I'm earning my own
living."

"Good. But how?'

"They don't take a boy just out of
college for the president of a bank or
the director of a railway. I'm just a
clerk in Marshall Field's."

Jarrod looked him over, critically.
The cheap new summer suit — perhaps
it had cost fifteen dollars — could not
disguise his manly bearing. On an-
other man it might have proclaimed
its cheapness; on Jim no one noticed
its texture.

"How much do you earn?" asked
the lawyer, quietly.

"Twelve dollars a week. But it's
an interesting experience, Mr. Jarrod.
You've no idea how well a fellow can
live on twelve dollars a week — unless
you've tried it."

Jarrod smiled.

"Where are you bound for?" he
asked.

"A little place called Tamawaca,

22 tfaffiawaca Folks

there to spend my two weeks' vaca-
tion. Just think of it! After four-
teen months I've saved enough for an
outing. It is n't a princely sum, to
be sure — nothing like what I spent in
a day at college — but by economy I
can make it do me in that out-of-the-
way place, where the hotel board is
unusually cheap."

"I'm told it is as bad as it is cheap,"
said Jarrod.

"That stands to reason, sir. I'm
not expecting much but rest and sun-
shine and fresh air — and perhaps a
nice girl to dance with in the even-
ing."

"I see."

"And, by the way, Mr. Jarrod,"
this with some hesitation, "please
don't tell anyone who I am, if you're
asked. I call myself James Ingram —
Ingram was my mother's name, you
know — and I'd rather people would
n't know who my father is, or why
I'm living in this modest way. They

Jim 23

would either blame me or pity me,
and I won't endure either from stran-
gers, for it's none of their business."

"I'll remember, Jim. Will you let
me present you to Mrs. Jarrod?"

"Not tonight, please. This meet-
ing has a little upset me. Wait till I
get settled a bit. You're going to
Tamawaca.

"Yes. We shall spend the summer
there, if we like it."

"Then, sir, I'll be sure to see you
again. Good night, Mr. Jarrod."

The young man walked on, and the
lawyer looked after him approvingly.

"He'll do," he muttered. "He
has n't crushed down the pride yet,
and I hope he never will. But he's
got a backbone, and that's worth
everything!"

In drawing a chair to the rail he
found that seated beside him was the
little fat man he had noticed at the
Annex. This jovial individual was
smoking a big cigar and leaning back

24 tfamawaca Folks

contentedly with his feet against the
bulwark. Jarrod thought the expres-
sion upon the round face invited com-
panionship.

"Going to Tamawaca?" he asked.

"Yep," said Geo. B. Still.

"Been there before?" continued
Jarrod, leaning back in turn.

"Yep. Own a cottage there."

"Oh," said the other; "then I'm
glad to meet you."

"Because I own a cottage?"

"No; because you can tell me
something about the place."

"Sure thing!" responded Geo. B.
"Climate's fine. When I first went
there I had a bad case of indigestion.
Doc said I was as good as dead. Told
me to eat toasted straw for breakfast
and have my wife get her black ready.
Look at me now! Would a crape
manufacturer smile at my picture?
Pshaw!"

"You seem very well," remarked

Jim 25

Jarrod. "Was it the breakfast food,
or the climate?"

"Climate, I guess. My taste don't
run to breakfast foods. I'd make a
poor horse. So I shovelled in plenty
of welsh rabbits and lobster newburgs
and corn fritters and such remedies,
an' washed 'em down with good beer
and a few bottles of sherry. Why,
sir, the treatment worked like magic!
Digestion perfect — pulse reg'lar —
spirits gay and unconfined — happi-
ness rampant. That Tamawaca cli-
mate's a peach."

"Do you think I can rent a cottage
there?'

"Sure. Ask Wilder. He'll fix
you."

"Is there a grocery handy, where
one can purchase supplies?"

"Yep. Wilder runs it."

"And a meat market?"

"Wilder's."

"Can I rent a good boat, for fish-
ing?'

26 tfamawaca Folks

"Wilder has 'em."

"Good. Dear me ! I forgot to get
a bathing suit in Chicago."

"Never mind. Wilder's Bazaar
has 'em. Two dollars for the dollar
kind."

"What time does the boat get to
Tamawaca.

"Four o'clock in the morning. But
you stay on board and ride to Koch-
ton, and get your sleep out. Then,
in the morning you take a trolley
back to Tarn. The steamer puts your
baggage off at Iroquois Bay, just
across the channel."

"What becomes of it?"

"Wilder ferries it over for twenty-
five cents a piece. It's too far to
jump."

"But is n't that a heavy charge?"

"Not for Wilder. It's a good deal,
of course, but Wilder's deals are al-
ways good — for Wilder. You're
lucky he don't take the baggage."

"Oh. Is he that kind?"

Jim 27

"Exactly. What you get, you get
of Wilder. What Wilder has n't got,
you don't get. When you allow for
expenses you want to figure on so
many dollars for living, and so much
to Wilder for letting you live."

"But that's an outrage."

Geo. B. laughed.

"It always strikes a stranger that
way — till he gets used to it," he said.
"I've been to a good many summer re-
sorts, in my day, and always there's
somebody on hand to relieve the in-
nocent resorter of his wad. If there
was n't, you'd feel you'd missed some-
thing. It's like going to law — don't
matter much which lawyer you go to,
you're bound to be robbed."

Jarrod smiled.

"Therefore, if you want Tamawaca,
sir, you've just got to take Wilder
with it," resumed the little man; "and
perhaps you could n't be half so hap-
py there if Wilder was gone."

"Does he own the place?"

28 tfamaivaca Folks

"Of course. He and old man East-
on. Wilder has one-third and old man
Easton two-thirds of the whole place ;
but then, Easton also has Wilder, just
the same as all the rest of us have
him."

"What sort of a man is Easton?"

'Tine old religious duffer, who
loves to pray for your spiritual well-
fare while he feels for your pocket-
book. Public opinion's divided be-
tween the two partners. Some say
Wilder' s a highwayman and Eas ton's
a robber, while others claim Eas ton's
the highwayman and Wilder's the
robber. You can take your choice."

"What a bad state of affairs !" ejac-
ulated Jarrod, with twinkling eyes.
"I'm sorry the boat has started."

"Never mind. It is n't as bad as
Atlantic City, by a long shot. Why,
last year a friend of mine went to At-
lantic City with a letter of credit and
an automobile, and in three months
he was working at the hotel for money

Jim 29

enough to get home and the hotel man
was riding in his automobile. Tama-
waca isn't as bad as that, so sit up
and look pleasant. Tamawaca's the
gem of the world — a heaven for loaf-
ers, lovers, bridge-players and stu-
dents of nature — including human.
You'll like it there. But as for Wild-
er and Easton — say ! any combination
lock on your inside pocket?"

"No."

"Then use a safety pin, and keep
your coat buttoned."

Jarrod smiled again. His spirits
rose. He scented battle as a cat scents
cream. Here was a delightful condi-
tion of affairs existing in a tucked-
away resort where he was going to
spend the summer, and the chances
were he would be amply amused.
Any capricious manifestation of hu-
man nature was sure to charm him, no
matter what phase it exhibited, and
the man who had for years fought and
conquered the terrible Crosbys was

30 tfamawaca Folks

not likely to shrink from a pair so
frankly enterprising as Easton and
Wilder seemed to be. And, if he must
put in three long months at Tama-
waca, Jarrod simply had to be
amused.

He slept well on the boat that night
— the first sound sleep he had enjoyed
for months.

CHAPTER III.

WILDER.

When Jarrod arrived at Tamawaca
in the course of the next forenoon he
found all prophecies most amply ful-
filled. Fronting the beautiful bay
was a group of frame buildings bear-
ing various signs of one general
trend: "Wilder's Grocery;" "Wild-
er's Ice Cream and Soda Fountain;55
"Wilder's Model Market;" "Wilder's
Boat Livery;" "Wilder's Post Office"
(leased to Uncle Sam;) "Wilder's
Bakery;" "Wilder's Fresh-Buttered
Pop-Corn;" "Wilder's Bazaar;"
"Wilder's Real Estate Office," etc.,
etc.

As the lawyer helped his family off
the car a man dashed out of the gro-
cery, ran up to him and seized both
his hands in a welcoming grip. He
was a stocky built, middle sized man,
with round features chubby and
31

32 Tamawaca Folks

merry, a small mouth, good teeth and
soft brown eyes that ought to have
been set in a woman's face.

"My dear, dear boy, I'm delighted
to see you — indeed I am! Welcome
to Tamawaca," said the man, in a cor-
dial, cheery tone. "And these are the
dear children! My, my — how they
have grown ! And Mrs. Jenkins, too,
I declare! Nora, my dear," turning
to a pleasant faced woman who had
followed him out, "here are our dear
friends the Jenkinses, that Mr. Mer-
rington wrote us about. Allow me to
present Mrs. Wilder, my dear Mrs.
Jenkins, and I'm sure she's as glad to
see you as I am myself."

"Pardon me," said the lawyer, a
little stiffly; "my name is Jarrod."

"Of course — of course!" cried
Wilder, unabashed. "Nora, my dear,
help me to welcome our good friends
the Jarrods, that Dr. Brush has writ-
ten us about. How nice to see you at
last in lovely Tamawaca! And the

Wilder 33

children will have the time of their
lives; and Mrs. Jarrod will be de-
lighted with our swell society — noth-
ing sweller in all Michigan, I assure
you!"

"It's awfully nice to see you here,"
added Mrs. Wilder, as smiling and
cheerful as her mate. "Won't you
come into the bazaar and sit down for
awhile? Perhaps Mr. Jarrod has some
business to talk over with my hus-
band."

"Yes," said Jarrod, as his wife and
children trooped after the pleasant
little lady into the roomy and well-
stocked bazaar; "I want to enquire
about Grant's cottage. He says you
have the rental of it."

Wilder's face fell, and his merry
expression gave way to one of abso-
lute despair.

"Dear me!" he exclaimed, as if
deeply distressed; "how very unfor-
tunate. Grant's cottage was rented

34 ^amawaca Folks

only last evening. How sad that I
did not know you wanted it!"

"But there are others, of course,"
suggested Jarrod, after a moment's
thought.

"Let — me — see," mused Wilder,
reflectively. "There's the Stakes
place — but that's rented; and Kim-
ball's is gone, too; and Smith's, and
Johnson's, and McGraw's — all rented
and occupied. My dear boy, I'm
afraid you're up against it. There
is n't a cottage left in Tamawaca to
rent ! But never mind; you shall stay
with me — you and the wife and the
dear little ones. I live over the gro-
cery, you know — really swell apart-
ments. You shall stay there as my
guests, and you'll be very welcome, I
assure you."

"Oh, I can't do that, Wilder," said
Jarrod, much annoyed. They had
strolled, by this time, to the porch of
the grocery and bazaar — a long build-
ing facing the bay on one side and the

Wilder 35

hotel on the other. It had wide
porches set with tables for the con-
venience of consumers of ice-cream
sodas. Inside, the building was di-
vided into the meat market, the gro-
cery and the bazaar, all opening on to
the same porch.

Jarrod sat down at one of the ta-
bles, feeling homeless and despond-
ent. He had eaten a dreadful break-
fast in Kochton, an hour before, and
it had n't agreed with him. Through
the open door of the bazaar he beheld
Mrs. Wilder talking earnestly with
his wife. She had given his little girl
a large and expensive doll to hold and
his little boy a full-rigged toy sail-
boat to play with.

"Ah!" cried Wilder, slapping the
table with emphasis; "I have it! You
are saved, dear boy — and not only
saved but highly favored by fortune.
How lucky I happend to think of it!"

"What is it?' asked Jarrod, with
reviving interest.

36 Tamawaca Folks

"Why, I've got Lake View for sale,
the prettiest and finest cottage in the
whole Park. You shall have it, dear
boy — you shall have it for a song."

"But I don't want to buy a cot-
tage," protested Jarrod. "I've not
even seen Tamawaca yet, and I don't
know as I'll like it."

"Not like it! Not like Tama-
waca!" Wilder's voice was sad and
reproachful. "My dear boy, every-
body likes Tamawaca. You can't help
liking it. Come, I'll show you the
charms of our little heaven upon
earth, and at the same time you shall
examine lovely Take View/ '

During this conversation a little
group of people had been gathering a
few paces behind Wilder, all with
anxious faces but a diffidence about
interrupting him. Wilder noted this
group and excused himself from Jar-
rod for a moment.

"Yes, Mrs. Jones," he said, in his
earnest, winning tones, "give me your

Wilder 37

baggage checks and I'll have the
trunks up to your cottage in a jiffy.
Certainly, Miss Vanderslop, I'll be
glad to telephone for you — no trouble
at all! Here, William," to his clerk
in the grocery, "cash this check for Mr.
Chambers. What's that, Mrs. Har-
ringford? the bread sour? Too bad,
dear girl, too bad ! But accidents will
sometimes happen. William, give
Mrs. Harringford her money back;
the bread's sour. What is it, Mr.
Harden? Gasoline stove won't work?
I'll have a man up to fix it in half an
hour; don't worry, dear boy; half an
hour at the latest. Good morning,
Mrs. Still! here are the keys to your
cottage. I've had the women clean it
and put it in order and it's all ready
for you to walk into and sit down. No
trouble at all — no thanks — glad to be
of use to you. What is it, my little
man? a note from mamma? Ah, yes;
tell her it will give me great delight
to reserve a berth for her on tomor-

38 Tamawaca Folks

row night's boat. And now, Mr. Jar-
rod, I'm at your service."

"You seem to be a busy man," said
Jarrod, with a smile.

"Usually I am," replied Wilder,
mopping his forehead; "but there's
not much doing this morning; it's too
early in the season; I'm resting up for
the busy days coming. Let us walk
over to the Lake front, and I'll aston-
ish you with the beauty of our fairy-
land."

So Jarrod, leaving his family to be
entertained by Mrs. Wilder, who
seemed an eminently fitting spouse
for her cheery husband, followed this
modern Poo-Bah along a broad ce-
ment walk that led past the hotel and
through a shady grove. There were
cottages on every side, clustered all
too thickly to be very enticing, but
neatly built and pleasant enough for a
summer's outing. A few paces more
brought them to a magnificent view
of the great inland sea, and soon they

Wilder 39

emerged upon a broad beach lapped
by the rolling waves of grand old
Michigan.

Jarrod's eyes sparkled. It was
beautiful at this point, he was forced
to admit, and the cool breath of the
breeze that swept over the waters sent
an exhilarating vigor to the bottom of
his lungs and brought a sudden glow
to his cheek.

Along the lake front was another
row of pretty cottages, running north
and south for a distance of half a mile
or more. At frequent intervals an
avenue led from the beach back into
the splendid forest, where, Wilder ex-
plained, were many more cottages hid-
den among the trees.

"Some people prefer to live in the
forest," said he, "while others like to
be nearer the water. The cottage you
have just bought is near the big lake,
and finely located."

"I did n't know I had purchased it,
as yet," remarked Jarrod, drily.

4O Tamawaca Folks

"I forgot," said Wilder, laughing.
"There are a good many things for
me to think of, you know, and some-
times I get 'em mixed."

"I see."

"Here," continued the guide, as
they went south along the wide beach
walk, "is the residence of the Father
of Tamawaca, my dear partner Mr.
Easton. A fine man, sir, but erring
in judgment now and then." He
stumbled on a loose, worn out plank,
and came to a halt. "This walk, dear
boy, ought to be repaired. I've talked
to Easton about it more than once,
but he says he's too poor to squander
money on public improvements. It's
his idea that the cottagers should re-
pair the walks."

"Is n't this in front of his own resi-
dence?" asked Jarrod.

"Y-e-e-e-s; seems to be. But East-
on says, and with justice, that all the
people living above here are obliged
to use this walk to get down town —

Wilder 41

where the store and post-office are lo-
cated— and so they ought to see that
it's kept in proper condition."

"Who owns the street?" enquired
Jarrod.

"Why, we own it, of course — East-
on and I. You see, this whole place
was once a farm and some men bought
it and laid out and platted Tamawaca
Park. They incorporated under the
laws of Michigan as a summer resort
company, and so they kept the control
of all the streets and public grounds
in their own hands. It's a private set-
tlement, you understand, and when a
man buys one of our lots he acquires
the right to walk over our streets as
much as he likes — as long as he be-
haves himself."

"And if he does n't?'

"If he does n't we can order him
off."

"Was the original plat recorded?"
asked Jarrod.

"Yes; of course."

42 ^amawaca folks

"With the streets and public
grounds laid out in detail?"

"Certainly."

"Then," said the lawyer, "the first
man that bought a lot here acquired a
title to all your public streets and
grounds, and you lost the control of
them forever."

"Nonsense!" cried Wilder.

"I've read law a bit," said Jarrod,
"and I know."

"Michigan law is different, dear
boy," announced Wilder, composed-
ly. "Still we mean to do what's
right, and to treat every cottage owner
fair and square — as long as he does
what we tell him to."

Jarrod's face was beaming. He had
not been so highly amused for months
— not since the Crosbys had sold out.
He had n't seen Lake View Cottage
as yet, but already he had decided to
buy it. A condition that would have
induced an ordinary man to turn tail
and avoid Tamawaca was an irresisti-

Wilder 43

ble charm to this legal pugilist. But
his cue was now to be silent and let
Wilder talk.

"Here, dear boy," that seraphic in-
dividual was explaining, "is where
Noggs lives, the wealthy merchant
prince of Grand Rapids. And here's
the cottage of our distinguished au-
thor. Don't have to work, you know.
Just writes books and people buy 'em.
Snap, ain't it?"

"Looks that way," said Jarrod.
"What's that cottage standing in the
middle of yonder avenue?"

"Oh, that belongs to old man
Easton."

"Why is it there?"

"Why, lake front lots are scarce,
you know; but cottages on the lake
front rent for good money. So Easton
built one in the street, and rents it at
a high figure. Clever scheme, ain't
it?"

"Did n't the cottage owners ob-
ject?"

44 famawaca Folks

"It was built in the winter, when
no one was here. When the resorters
came in the spring and saw it, they
wailed an' tore their hair. But it was
too late, then. While they swore,
Easton prayed for 'em; he's religious.
The old saint's got lots o' cottages on
public grounds, but no one can make
him tear 'em down because we control
the public grounds ourselves. What-
ever's public here belongs to me an'
Easton. Understand ?"

"Perfectly."

"Here's where the big stock-yards
man from Chicago lives. Pretty place,
eh? And here's the cottage of George
B. Still, the magnate of Quincy."

"I've met him."

"Fine fellow, and so's his wife.
One of the largest grocery bills, sir, at
the Park! Ah, here we come to the
cottage of the famous philanthropist
from Chicago Commons — Professor
Graylor. Used to be a rich man, but
spent everything he had to convert

Wilder 45

the heathen dagos of the Windy City.
Now all he's got left is this cottage
and a clear conscience — poor man!"

"Why do you say cpoor man' ?"

"Because, dear boy, a clear con-
science ain't an available asset. I've
got one myself, and I know," said
Wilder, plaintively. "But here we are
at Maple Walk — one of the most pic-
turesque avenues in town. Please
climb these few steps; it is on this
walk your charming cottage stands."

"Mine?"

"To be sure. No man of judgment,
dear boy, would refuse to buy it, and I
can see you 're a good bit wiser than
the average resorter. I'm so glad you

came!'

:Thank you."

"You 're just the sort of man we
need, Mr. Jarrod — the sort we're al-
ways lookin' for."

"To walk on your streets and repair
your sidewalks?"

"Exactly."

46 ^famawaca Folks

"And patronize your mercantile es-
tablishments?"

Wilder laughed heartily.

"Why not?" he asked, laying a fa-
miliar and caressing hand on the oth-
er's shoulder. "You've got to live;
an' poor Wilder's got to live."

"Poor Wilder can't help living, it
seems to me," returned Jarrod, reflec-
tively. "All these people are forced
to trade with you, because there's no
one else to patronize. You've estab-
lished a monopoly here."

"It ain't that," said Wilder, becom-
ing serious. "I don't want to monop-
olize anything, I'm sure. All I want
is for people to come here and have a
good time, and I can't trust anyone
but myself to give 'em the right serv-
ice and the right goods at the right
prices. That's why I run everything
myself — and lose money year after
year a-doin' it."

"How can you lose money?"

"Why, on the folks that don't come

Wilder 47

here. If Tamawaca was double the
size, I'd make double the money,
would n't I? But it's a small place,
you see, and no man's so energetic
that he can get more than there is. So
I work every season just to accommo-
date the people. When you've been
here a little while you'll find that out.
I'll cash your checks, lend you money,
run your errands, settle your quarrels
with your wife, reconcile your hired
girl to sleeping in the basement and
play blind-man's-buff with your chil-
dren. That's Wilder — everybody's
friend but his own, and too honest for
his own good."

"Indeed, Mr. Wilder," said Jarrod,
"I can see already that you are a re-
markable man. What could Tama-
waca do without you?"

"That's it! Why, dear boy, it
would bust higher than Guilderoy's
kite! That's why I take such good
care of my health. But here we are

48 ^famawaca Folks

at Lake View. Behold your future
home!"

Jarrod liked the place. It was high
enough to command an outlook upon
the lake and to catch every breeze, yet
not too high for an ordinary climb.

"What's the price?" he asked.

"Just step inside and see the rooms.
It's magnificently furnished."

"What do you ask for the place?"

"There's a fine pump in the back
yard and a sideboard in the dining

room.'

"How much?"

"It was painted only this spring
and everything's in apple-pie order.
Just step inside."

Jarrod sat down on the steps.

"I'll give you a thousand dollars
for it," he said.

"My dear boy, the lot alone's worth
fifteen hundred."

"Is the cottage on the lot?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It don't look it."

Wilder 49

"Never mind that. I'll sell you the
lot and the cottage. If the house is n't
on the lot it's somewhere in the neigh-
borhood, and no one's going to ask
any questions."

"Why not?"

"Because they dare n't. They're
all in the same boat. There has n't
been a surveyor allowed in Tamawaca
for ages. When a man wants to build,
he buys a lot of me an' Easton an'
then hunts for the lot. If he thinks
he's found it, he's lucky. If there
don't appear to be a lot where he
thinks it ought to be, he just builds his
cottage and takes the chances."

"All right," said Jarrod. "I'll take
my chances. How much for Lake
View?"

"Well, dear boy, I've taken a liking
to you, and so I'm willing to sacrifice.
I'll pay good money to get you here
as a resident. But it's a dreadful
shame to think how property's ad-
vanced here lately. I've tried to keep

50 tfamawaca Folks

it down, but I can't. Here's a case,
though, where I can forget high prices
and be generous. You can have Lake
View for four thousand dollars.3'

"What!"

"And I'll trust to luck to keep Nora
and me out o' the poor-house."

Jarrod reflected.

"I'll give you two thousand," he
said.

"Then it's yours. Do you want to
go in and look around, or shall we
walk back and get your wife and chil-
dren, so they can begin to enjoy their
new home?"

"We'll go back," said Jarrod, won-
dering to what extent he had been
bled. "I'll have plenty of chances to
see the inside of my cottage later."

"True. And while we're down at
the store we'll make out the list for
groceries and meats and gasoline and
such things, and I'll send 'em up in
fifteen minutes."

Mrs. Jarrod was glad to see her hus-

Wilder 51

band again, although in his absence
Mrs. Wilder had thoroughly posted
her in regard to everyone of note at
Tamawaca. She was rather aston-
ished at the rapidity with which they
had acquired citizenship, but went to
William at once to order her groceries
and supplies, while Jarrod drew his
check to pay for Lake View and then
settled with Mrs. Wilder for the doll
and the sail-boat — one of which had
been broken while the other his dear
child refused to part with without a
scene.

Two hours later they had taken pos-
session of their cottage, unpacked
their trunks and settled themselves
for the summer. The children had ta-
ken off their shoes and stockings and
run down to the lake to paddle around
at the water's edge, where it was per-
fectly safe ; Mrs. Jarrod was instruct-
ing a maid that Wilder had promptly
secured and sent to her, while Jarrod
himself — collarless and in his shirt-

52 ^amawaca Folks

sleeves — had drawn an easy chair out
upon the porch and set himself down
to think.

On a tree facing him was a sign that
read: "Ask Wilder." These signs
he had noticed everywhere at Tama-
waca, and as he stared at this one he
smiled grimly.

"There's no need asking Wilder,"
he murmured. "Let him alone for a
time and he'll tell you everything —
even more than he imagines he does.
But I'm glad I came. Wilder's a gen-
ius, and his nerve is a challenge to all
the world!"

CHAPTER IV.

JUST GIRLS.

She was rather pretty, judged by
the ordinary standards. The other
girls called her "the heiress," because
she so frankly confided to them the in-
formation that her uncle — an enor-
mously wealthy man — had no one to
inherit his millions but herself, and
so had made his will in her favor.
Meantime, while he continued to live,
this estimable old gentleman gave his
niece "just anything I want, girls! He
just begs me to spend all the money I
can, and is sorry I don't spend more."

Such opulence was not observable
in the appearance of the young lady,
nor did it lead her to reckless extrava-
gances. She bought about as many ice-
cream sodas as the other girls who
were shy of rich uncles, and dressed
equally as well as the majority of the
young women at Tamawaca, but no
53

54 Tamawaca Folks

better. She had no jewel cabinet, or
automobile, or pug dog or embroid-
ered underwear; so her chums and
comrades, who only knew her at this
summer resort, were wicked enough to
rally her upon her vast wealth and
slyly insinuate "they were from Mis-
souri" by dubbing her "the heiress."

Clara accepted the title with much
content. She felt she was entitled to
the distinction and held her chin a bit
higher when she passed common folks
on the street.

This afternoon, however, she was
not on dress parade. Dressed in her
bathing uniform she reclined upon the
sands in company with several com-
panions likewise attired and listened
eagerly to the comments of two young
ladies who had made an important dis-
covery.

"He came this morning, girls," said
Betty Lowden, impressively, "and
he's just the cutest thing that ever
came off from the boat. Such eyes, my

Just Girls 55

dears ! — and such lovely fluffy hair — "
"And the air of a real gentleman,
girls," broke in Mary Newton; "you
could n't mistake him anywhere; and
before we passed him he looked at me
twice!"

"No dear, once at the weather sig-
nal and once at you," corrected Betty.
"I noticed especially, for afterward
he stared at me a whole minute."
"Why, you mean, disagreeable — "
"Seems to me," remarked little
Susie, quietly, "that it's a bit of good
luck to have any sort of a young man
drop down upon us so early in the sea-
son. I'm told they're scarce enough
at any time in Tamawaca, so I did n't
expect to meet a real Charles Augus-
tus for a whole month yet."

"His name is James — James In-
gram. Mary and I ran to look at the
hotel register, and he's the only man
that arrived today."

"And you have n't met him yet,

56 Tamawaca Folks

either," suggested Mary, with an ex-
asperating air of proprietorship.

"No?" said Susie, demurely, as she
dipped her hands into the sands and
let the shining grains run through her
fingers. "But," glancing dreamily
over the heads of the others, "I expect
to meet him — within the next half
hour."

"Oh, Susie!"

"How absurd!"

"I'll bet you the sundaes for the
crowd, Betty, that I'll be able to intro-
duce him to all of you in half an hour
from this second."

"And you've never met him be-
fore?" suspiciously.

"Never."

"You must be crazy," said the heir-
ess, scornfully.

"Don't turn around quickly — take
your time, Mary. But just let me
know if that's James," continued the
girl, in a soft voice.

They gave a jump, then, and every

Just Girls 57

one of them stared ruthlessly. They
saw a tall young man come down the
walk at a swinging stride, glance
hungrily at the sparkling waves, and
then enter "Wilder' s Bathing Estab-
lishment," which stood near by, at the
water's edge.

"It must be him!" gasped the heir-
ess.

"It is him!" cried Betty, trium-
phantly. "Is n't he splendid?"

"Say, girls," observed Gladys Mc-
Gowan, "let's take Susie's bet. It'll
be worth a round of sundaes to meet
our Jim right away, without losing
precious time."

"Half an hour, Susie?3

"Half an hour at the most, girls."

"Then it's a go! How will you
manage it?"

Susie still played with the sands,
while the others watched her nervous-
ly. She was a tiny thing, and not es-
pecially beautiful, but the girls liked
her because she was "good fun" and

58 tfamawaca Folks

exhibited a rare cleverness at times.
All they knew of her history was that
Susie was visiting at the Carleton cot-
tage.

"You'll help me, girls4?" enquired
the adventurous one.

"Of course. But what's your plan,
dear?"

"Wait."

Presently a bather emerged from
Wilder's Establishment, walked down
to the shore near them, gave a glance
of brief interest at the group of girls
reclining upon the sands, and straight-
way plunged into the lake and swam
out with bold, vigorous strokes.

Every feminine eye followed him.

"Jim can swim, all right," observed
Gladys, admiringly.

Susie nodded.

"I thought he could," she said.
"Now, girls, in we go!"

"What! Into the water?"

"Certainly."

"And get wet?"

Just Girls 59

"It'll take a week to dry our hair
again!"

Susie ignored the protests.

"Oh, we'll just putter around a bit.
It won't hurt us," she said.

They arose reluctantly and one or
two dipped a stockinged toe into the
cool water and cringed. But Susie
waded in without a quiver, and real-
izing the importance of the occasion
they grew bold and slowly followed
her. The heiress waited until the very
last, and hesitated even then. But
there was "Jim" in the water, and it
would n't do to let the other girls get
an advantage over her.

So presently they had all trailed
along the gently shelving bottom un-
til the water had reached their waists,
and in the case of little Susie, who was
in the lead, it came quite up to her
chin.

The young man had cleaved his
way a good distance out; but now he
was returning more slowly, leaping

60 ^amawaca Folks

and turning like a dolphin at play and
then floating luxuriously upon his
back for awhile. As he drew nearer
to the girls Susie whispered :

"Now scream — and scream loud,
mind you!"

In amazement they watched her
swim out a few strokes — for the girl
could actually swim — and then saw
her throw up her hands and heard her
cry out.

Wildly they shrieked a chorus. It
was the real thing in the way of a
scream, and owed part of its vigor to
the fact that Susie's action seemed
horribly natural.

Instantly the young man rolled off
his back and elevated his head, tread-
ing water. He saw a girl struggling
madly and heard the shrill outcry of
her companions. A moment more he
was dashing to the rescue.

Did Susie see him coming through
one corner of her eye? She disap-
peared entirely, and was under water

Just Girls 6 1

an alarming time. When she finally
bobbed up a strong arm was folded
around her waist.

"Don't struggle! Keep quiet and
leave it to me," said Jim, calmly; and
the sound of his voice seemed to have
a soothing effect upon the drowning
girl. She rested in his circling arm
quite comfortably, and before another
minute he found a footing and then
waded ashore with both arms around
her, while Susie's envious friends
scampered out beside him and insisted
upon helping to restore her.

Very gently the big fellow laid her
on the sand and knelt anxiously be-
side her. But she had been rescued at
exactly the right moment, so now she
opened her eyes, smiled sweetly, and
heaved a sigh.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir,
for saving me!" she said. The voice
was pretty husky for a girl that had to
be held, but Jim was young and did
not notice that.

62 ^amawaca Folks

"Don't mention it," he replied, de-
lighted to find she was likely to live.
"You'd better get home as soon as pos-
sible, and have a good rub-down and
a glass of tonic. May I assist you?"

"If you please. I know it's foolish
and — and silly; but I'm so frightened
and weak yet."

"Naturally," replied the sympa-
thetic hero; and then the heiress, who
could stand no more foolishness,
jerked Susie to her feet before she had
a chance to smile into the boy's grave
eyes again. That was wasted energy,
of course, for Susie just now absolute-
ly controlled the situation. Her deli-
cate form swayed so visibly that the
boy seized her arm at once, and Clara
thoughtfully usurped the other arm
and began to lavish such tender devo-
tion upon her that Gladys laughed
outright — a cold, harsh laugh that
sent a shiver down the heiress' back
and made her vow to "get even" at
the first opportunity.

Just Girls 63

Mischievous Susie was dying for a
good laugh herself at the complete
success of her stratagem; but she mas-
tered the impulse and, letting Jim
support her as much as he would, tot-
tered slowly along the beach in the di-
rection of home. The girls surround-
ed her, flooding her with eager ques-
tions of how it had happened and how
she felt, and generous praises of her
brave and noble rescuer. For none ex-
cept the heiress could withhold her ad-
miration for Susie's cleverness or was
the least bit jealous.

On the way they were all intro-
duced, in the most natural manner, to
the man of the hour, and then the
heroine enquired in a languid tone
that could not disguise her meaning:
"What time is it, Clara dear?"

"Oh, less than half an hour since
you attempted suicide," returned the
heiress, composedly. "Brace up, Susie
dear, for I'm going to buy you a sun-
dae tonight/'

64 T^amawaca Folks

Of course the young man did n't un-
derstand this speech. He left the girl
"whose life he had saved" at the
Carleton porch, and begged permis-
sion to call in the evening and enquire
after her — a permission instantly
granted.

Then, with Betty and Mary and
Gladys and the heiress all chattering
in a breath as they surrounded him,
Jim returned to the bathing establish-
ment, where they separated. The
heiress was a pretty girl, and the boy
smiled as he bade her good-bye.

As he dressed himself he could not
help congratulating himself upon his
good luck in meeting this "bunch of
nice girls" on the very day of his ar-
rival. It augured a pleasant vaca-
tion.

As for the "bunch," Gladys said on
the way home :

"Is n't Susie a deep one, though?"

"She thinks she is," answered the
heiress, with a toss of her shapely

Just Girls 65

head. "Do you remember, dear, how
the cat's paw once pulled the chest-
nuts out of the fire for some one else?"

"Oh, yes;" answered Gladys, snif-
fing. "It was for a monkey, was n't
it?"

Those sweet, sweet girls!

CHAPTER V.

GETTING ACQUAINTED.

Mrs. Still, who lived but a few
doors from the Jarrods, called upon
Mrs. Jarrod the next afternoon, and
after welcoming her cordially to Tam-
awaca and congratulating her upon
acquiring pretty Lake View, invited
her and Mr. Jarrod to attend a card
party at the yacht club that evening.

Jarrod did n't play "five hundred,"
but when the good-natured Stills
called for them soon after dinner he
complacently accompanied his wife to
the club, which was located half way
around the bay and was reached by
one of Wilder' s ferry-boats after a five
minutes' ride from the Tamawaca
dock. It was a pretty building, gay
with electric lights. On the ground
floor was a reception room filled with
sailing trophies, and a big room
reached through swinging doors which
66

Getting Acquainted 67

was devoted to the needs of thirsty
men. The upper floor was one large
room set with card tables, and here
Mrs. Still introduced Mrs. Jarrod to a
numerous concourse of merry folks
who were all impatient to get at the
cards and gamble fiercely for two
hours or so to win a set of prizes that
represented an outlay of about seven-
ty-five cents in the aggregate. When
the "prizes'5 were won they were usu-
ally either dropped quietly into the
lake on* the way home or reserved to
be gambled for at some other social
gathering. I knew one lady who won
the same prize seven times in the same
season, and likewise gave it away
seven times. The only reason that she
kept it then was that her guests flatly
refused to accept it as a trophy, it hav-
ing become sadly shop-worn.

Jarrod was ushered by Geo. B. into
the thirst room and introduced to a
solemn group of three or four men
who wore yachting caps and shirts,

68 tfamawaca Folks

and had brass buttons sewn on their
blue serge coats.

"Howdy," said Berwin, a man with
a bald head and serious eyes. "Hear
you've bought a cottage, Jarrod.
Want to join our Club?"

"I'd like to," the lawyer replied,
hesitating; "but I've — "

"Ten dollars, please. That's the
price for season membership."

Jarrod paid it.

"But I've got no sail-boat," said he.

"That's all right," observed Stakes,
a little fellow with a peppery and
pugnacious countenance. "None of
the crowd upstairs owns a sail-boat,
but they're all club members, just the
same. We four — Homperton, Ber-
win, Diller and myself — own boats,
and we're the yacht club in reality.
We built this shop on credit, and run
it ourselves, but we let the folks up-
stairs support it by paying ten dollars
a year. It pleases 'em to be members
of a yacht club, you know, and helps

Getting Acquainted 69

us out financially. Much obliged for
your donation."

"Do I have a vote?" asked Jarrod,
much amused by this frank explana-
tion.

"Of course; but according to our
constitution only men with sail-boats
can be officers of the club. So you
must vote for us."

"Once," remarked Diller, a fine
looking chap who was intently inter-
ested in a squat bottle and a siphon,
"I had money and ambition and no
sail-boat. Who was I, anyhow? A
landsman! A nobody! Didn't belong
to a yacht club, or anything else."

"Except Mrs. Diller," interjected
Geo. B., with a sly wink at Jarrod.

"Then I bought a sail-boat — "

"And a dingy," added Geo. B.

"And paid up the debts of the club
and was made Commodore. Commo-
dore Diller! Who was I then? Why,
ev'rybody said: 'Morn'n', Com-mo-
dore !' 'Have a smoke, Com-mo-dore !'

yo Tamawaca Folks

'One more with me, Com-mo-dore !'
Ah; that's bein' somebody, that is.
Commodore Diller ! Com-mo-dore
Dil-ler."

"Some men acquire greatness," said
Jarrod, sympathetically.

'Tact is," remarked the solemn Ber-
win, "that Diller's a fine sailor. Got
a good boat, too. Every race we have,
Diller's there."

"Where?' asked Diller, looking up
with a puzzled expression.

"Oh, somewhere," said Berwin.
"Only yesterday I said to Wilder — "

"Con-found Wilder!" yelled little
Stakes, growing red with sudden rage
and pounding the table fiercely.
"Why should that monster's name be
mentioned in the sanctity of the sanc-
tum of this respectable Yacht Club?
Wilder's a robber, a thief, a con-man,
a — a rascal, and a — a — a — "

"That's all right," interrupted
Homperton. "He's an upstairs mem-
ber, and we've got his ten dollars."

Getting Acquainted 71

"Well, that's something," admitted
Stakes, calming down somewhat.
"It's a pleasure to rob a robber, once
in awhile."

"Sh— h!" said Geo. B., mischiev-
ously. "You forget that both Mr.
Jarrod and I are present, and have
also been separated from our member-
ship fees."

"You don't mind," said Stakes.
"You're good fellows, for folks that
don't own sail-boats, and your wives
will get ten dollars worth of struggle
up stairs before the season's over.
Eh?"

"I think so," said Jarrod.

Later in the evening the ferry-boat
called for the card players, but broke
her engines just as she reached the
dock. That was unfortunate, for she
had broken her engines only four
times that day and this was her last
trip. Wilder was with her, and he
promptly hustled all the people
aboard, collecting the fares as they

72 tfamawaca Folks

crossed the gang-plank, and then,
after some delay, he informed his pas-
sengers in a despairing voice that the
blamed thing would n't go. Some-
thing was wrong with the engines, but
if they would be patient he would tie
up to the dock and overhaul the ma-
chinery and get things in shape again.
Of course they all trooped off to the
dock again. One or two ventured to
suggest a return of their fares; but
Wilder had gone somewhere for a lan-
tern and taken the pocketful of nick-
els with him. Before he returned his
people had formed a merry procession
to the shore back of the club house,
where they struck the trolley-car
tracks and tramped the half mile to
Tamawaca singing and joking and
thoroughly enjoying themselves.
They were acquainted with Wilder's
ferry-boat, and never allowed it to
make them unhappy.

Mrs. Jarrod was pleased and trium-
phant. She had won the third prize —

Getting Acquainted 73

a nineteen cent handkerchief embroid-
ered with the initial "S." — and it was
indeed fortunate that she did not
overhear the remark of Mrs. Sauters
that it was the same one she had
dropped at the last yacht club party.

Next morning Jarrod went down to
the post office and met several of his
fellow cottagers. They were, as a
class, highly respectable, well-to-do
and good natured business men, who
sought in this delightful nook rest and
recreation after months of weary toil
in their offices, factories, mills or
mines. They talked freely of the ad-
verse conditions existing in Tama-
waca, of their abject dependence upon
the whims of Wilder and Easton, of
the usurpation by these men of the
cottagers' rights and privileges, and
ended always by expressing an opin-
ion that the law, if appealed to, would
not support the owners of Tamawaca
in their autocratic actions.

"Wilder' s all right," said one.

74 tfamawaca Folks

''He's a good fellow, personally, and
mighty accommodating. But he owns
only a one-third interest, so what can
he do against a man like Easton, who
owns two-thirds and refuses to spend
a nickel to keep his own property in
repair?"

"Easton is n't so bad," remarked
another; "but he's an old man, and
weak, and Wilder makes him do any-
thing he likes."

"Why don't the cottagers organ-
ize?" asked Jarrod.

"They are organized. The annual'
meeting is to be held next Saturday
night," was the reply. "But they
never do anything at those meetings
except bewail their condition of
slavery and mildly denounce Wilder
and Easton."

"What we lack," said a grizzled old
fellow with piercing black eyes
glinting underneath shaggy brows, "is
a leader; an organizer. The whole
system of imposition here is a fester

Getting Acquainted 75

that is gradually coming to a head.
What we shall require presently is a
clever surgeon with a sharp lancet."

As the speaker walked away Jarrod
looked thoughtfully after him.

"Who is that man4?" he enquired.

"Why, that's Colonel Kerry. Years
ago he used to be one of the owners
of Tamawaca; but they say he quar-
relled with the methods of his part-
ners and sold out to them. That was
before either Wilder or Easton
bought in; but the Colonel has never
mixed in public affairs since."

"I wonder he does n't use the lancet
himself," said Jarrod.

"Oh, he's capable enough, I assure
you; but the Colonel is n't hunting
trouble. He sticks to his cottage up
on the hillside and minds his own
business. But he's a shrewd observer,
and no one knows the inside history
of all the encroachments upon the
rights of our residents during the last

76 Tamawaca Folks

dozen or so years better than old man
Kerry."

Jarrod strolled along the walks foi
an hour or two, noting carefully the
conditions of neglect everywhere ap-
parent. Nature had done wonders for
Tamawaca; man had done little but
mar nature, if we except the many
handsome or cosy cottages that peeped
enticingly from their leafy bowers or
stood on the hills overlooking the two
lakes.

Tamawaca occupies the point be-
tween the channel and Tamawaca
Pool to the north, and Lake Michigan
on the west, where a sloping height is
thickly covered with a noble forest
that creeps past the dwellings down to
the water's edge. In the hills are ro-
mantic ravines, flower-strewn vales
and vine-covered cliffs. To a lover of
nature nothing could be more ex-
quisitely beautiful.

Jarrod tripped and stumbled along
the walks. The boards were rotted

Getting Acquainted 77

and falling apart. In places the sand
had drifted over and covered the high-
way completely. An air of neglect
brooded everywhere in the public
places, and where a bit of land had
originally been left for a small park
the ground was strewn with empty tin
cans, bones, papers and other debris.

It grieved him to note this condi-
tion of affairs. A little well directed
energy and a little well expended
money would make Tamawaca blos-
som like a rose ; but both these essen-
tials seemed lacking. The cottagers
would do nothing because they were
told the streets and public places were
not theirs, and the owners would do
nothing because they figured they
could get as much out of the cottagers
without additional investment. The
people who built at Tamawaca, and
lived there during the summer
months, were perhaps regarded as le-
gitimate prey by those who directed
their fates during that time. Wilder

78 . tfamawaca Folks

and Easton supplied them with every-
thing. They owned the electric light
plant and the water works. Indeed,
they owned and controlled everything
that the cottagers were obliged to
have, and netted a fine income each
year. ^

All this was a challenge to Jarrod.
The fires of his mental energy must be
fed, even when he was "resting," and
without the slightest personal antago-
nism to Wilder and Easton, but sim-
ply because he saw there was a battle
to be fought for the cottagers, whose
ranks he had joined, his logical mind
began to figure out ways and means
to force the fighting.

A day or two later the lawyer took
the electric car to Kochton and read a
little Michigan law in the office of a
friendly attorney. The result ap-
prised him that he was uncovering
nothing more than a huge game of
"bluff," which had been played so
long and with such amazing assurance

Getting Acquainted 79

that it hatl completely cowed its vic-
tims.

Jarrod came home smiling.

"There's nothing like a summer re-
sort for quieting one's nerves," he told
his wife.

CHAPTER VI.

FOUND OUT.

When Jim called to enquire after
Susie on the evening of his adventure
he found her dressed in a fluffy white
costume and sitting demurely upon
the porch awaiting him.

Mr. Carleton came out to thank the
boy for rescuing his little guest, and
after one shrewd glance into the frank
and manly face he retired and left the
young folks together, satisfied that
Susie had made no undesirable ac-
quaintance.

They had plenty to talk about, al-
though this was practically their first
meeting. But Susie had faithfully
promised her girl friends to bring Jim
over to the hotel for the dancing that
evening, so she was obliged, although
reluctantly, to curtail their pleasant
chat and invite him to escort her to the

dance.

80

Found Out 8l

Jim was tremendously fond of
dancing, so he accepted with alacrity.
When they arrived at the ball-room of
the hotel, where cottagers and guests
alike were welcomed by the proprie-
tor, they found Gladys and Mary,
Betty and the heiress all eagerly
awaiting them. On the floor were
many couples of girls joyously danc-
ing together, for boys of any sort were
scarce indeed, and their absence could
not induce the girls to forego the
pleasures of the waltz and two-step.
Jim promptly began to participate by
dancing with Susie, as politeness re-
quired, although she was too short in
stature for the big fellow and dancing
was not one of her best accomplish-
ments. He did not allow her to guess
they were an awkward couple, how-
ever, and thanked her as gratefully as
if he had not barely escaped being
tripped a dozen times.

Next he led out the heiress, who in
addition to being pretty and graceful

82 ^amawaca Folks

was an especially skillful dancer. My !
how Jim did enjoy that two-step. He
danced with Betty next, and with the
heiress again; then with Gladys and
once more with the heiress. Mary's
turn came afterward, and he really
ought to have asked Susie once more;
but by the time he had taken the heir-
ess out for one final whirl the dancing
was over and it was too late.

Clara was glowing and triumphant.
She had fairly monopolized the most
desirable young man in Tamawaca the
whole evening, and it thrilled her with
delight to notice how Mary and
Gladys frowned at her and shrugged
their shapely shoulders, and how
saucily Betty stuck up her nose when
she found she could not look indiffer-
ent. But Susie only smiled cordially
at her rival and told Clara she danced
as prettily as any girl she had ever
met.

Then Jim took them all across to
Wilder's for an ice-cream soda — the

Found Out 83

only entertainment by which it was
possible to repay the girls for his de-
lightful evening; and if he shivered
a bit when he paid the bill no one
could ever have suspected it from his
manner.

"A few more of these treats," he
thought, "will curtail my vacation
considerably. I must be careful, or
I'll ruin my present opportunity to
have a good time."

You may be sure the heiress urged
him to call the next day, and equally
sure that he accepted the invitation.
Instantly he found himself popular
with all the girls, for every unat-
tached female at Tamawaca wanted to
know the handsome youth. Presently
he received so many invitations to go
boating and bathing and auto-riding,
and for luncheons, picnics, cards and
dancing parties, that almost every
waking moment of his day was fully
occupied.

Throughout this social revelry the

84 tfamawaca Folks

heiress clung to her conquest like grim
death. However much her girl friends
might accuse her of "artful selfishness
and selfish artfulness" she was clever
enough to charm the young man by her
uniform good temper and her frank
delight in his society. Jim's heart was
not mush, but he was human enough
to enjoy a mild flirtation. He did not
neglect other girls of his acquaintance
entirely, but was most often seen in
the society of the heiress ; so gradually
the others came to acknowledge her
priority and expected only a modest
share of his attention.

To Susie Jim remained always
friendly and considerate, and some-
times during that giddy first week of
his vacation he would steal away to
the Carleton porch to sit down for a
peaceful hour with the little girl
whose life he had saved. During these
interviews Susie would praise Clara's
beauty and accomplishments until
Jim looked at her curiously and his

Found Out 85

face grew troubled. He would admit
that the heiress was "good fun," but
refrained from more enthusiastic com-
ment.

But there was only a week of this
hero-worship. Then the sky fell, and
Jim passed out of the lime-light into
comparative oblivion.

Katie Glaston came over from Chi-
cago one day, and as she knew Gladys
and Mary she was joyfully welcomed
to the select circle of "the bunch."
And of course one of her first experi-
ences was to run against Jim and
Clara on the board walk. They were
bound for a boat ride and the girls
halted them long enough to graciously
introduce the "hero" to Katie.

She acknowledged the introduction
with marked coldness.

"Glaston?" said Jim, reminiscent-
ly; "any relation to D. B. Glaston?"

"He is my father, sir," said the
young lady, and turned her back to
speak with Betty.

86 tfamawaca Folks

Jim raised his eyebrows slightly,
smiled with quiet amusement, and
then walked on beside Clara, who had
noticed the snub and was angry and
indignant.

"What impudence !" she exclaimed,
when they had passed out of earshot.
"And from Katie Glaston, too ! Why,
Jim, her father is nothing more than a
manager in a department store."

"I know," said Jim, nodding. "He's
my chief. I'm in his department at
Marshall Field's."

Clara shivered and stopped short.
Then she walked on more slowly, with
a red face and eyes staring straight
ahead.

"Don't joke, Mr. Ingram," she re-
monstrated.

"Oh, I'm not joking," rejoined the
young fellow, with a light laugh.
"Did n't you know? I thought I had
told you that I am a mere clerk in a
department store."

"I — Fm afraid one of my terrible

Found Out 87

headaches is coming on," she mur-
mured, with embarrassment. "It is so
hot this afternoon. Would you mind
taking me home, Mr. Ingram?"

"Perhaps it would be better," he
said, quickly. "The sun will be fierce
on the water, and a rest may save you
from the headache."

They turned at once and retraced
their steps. At the corner of Misha-
haken Avenue they again passed Ka-
tie and her group of friends. The
heiress marched stiffly by, but could
not forbear one glance toward the
group and caught Betty's scornful
smile as a consequence. Poor Clara's
humiliation was so great that she near-
ly sobbed outright. A clerk ! A mere
clerk in Marshall Field's. And she
had been devoting herself to the fel-
low for a whole week !

Jim was not blind, and needed no
explanation. Silently he escorted the
girl to her cottage, the amused twinkle
in his eye growing stronger every mo-

88 T^amawaca Folks

ment as he noted her indignation and
resentment increasing. At her porch
she dismissed him with a mumbled
word and ran in to indulge in a good
cry as a safety valve to her vexation.
And the discarded youth lightly re-
traced his steps to the hotel, whistling
reflectively as he went — which was
ample proof that he did not realize
how serious was the wicked imposition
he had practised.

Of course Katie had informed the
other girls most fully of the fact that
young Ingram was "a cheap clerk in
her father's department," and al-
though Gladys merrily declared it
would be an added inducement for her
to trade at the store, the other shrewd
damsels were quick to see that such an
acquaintance was quite undesirable.

"We really have no protection from
such adventurers at a summer resort,"
observed Betty. "I understand now
why he picked out 'the heiress.' Her
supposed fortune interested him."

Found Out 89

"Supposed, Betty?"

"Well, she does n't display any
moving pictures of it."

"We were too eager to get acquaint-
ed with a stranger, just because men
were scarce," Mary remarked, a little
bitterly. "This ought to teach us a
lesson, girls."

"Hush! Here he comes."

They fell silent, every pretty back
turned to the walk, and Jim swung by
without encountering a look or a
word.

The young man had not been a
clerk for more than a year without
having been forced to realize e'er
now that his position debarred him
from a certain class of social recogni-
tion. It must be admitted that he
had purposely concealed his occupa-
tion while on this vacation, in order
to enjoy a bit of feminine society, of
which he was as wholesomely fond as
every boy ought to be. And, being
an optimistic young fellow, he now

go ^amawaca Folks

congratulated himself upon the good
times he had managed to secure, in-
stead of regretting the fact that he
had finally been "found out."

For two days following his "dis-
covery" he swam and walked and had
a fine time in his own company, sav-
ing himself from unnecessary snubs
by assisting his former girl friends to
avoid him. Then, one afternoon as
he passed the Carleton cottage, Susie
Smith ran out and seized him, urging
him so cordially and unaffectedly to
come in for afternoon tea that he
could not well refuse.

Mr. and Mrs. Carleton greeted
their guest with so much genuine
kindness that the lonely young fel-
low felt his welcome to be sincere, so
he passed the next two hours very de-
lightfully indeed. Really, he had
not enjoyed those last two days. His
nature craved a certain amount of so-
cial intercourse with nice people, and

Found Out 91

he could not be entirely happy with-
out it.

But it would be wrong to deceive
Susie and the kindly Carletons.
When he left, after accepting an in-
vitation to an informal bridge party
arranged for that evening, Mr. Carle-
ton walked down to the post-office
with him, and Jim promptly relieved
himself of his secret on the way.

But the old gentleman cut short
his explanation.

"I know, Ingram," he said. "Susie
heard the story from some of her girl
friends, and it has pleased us to know
you are able to enjoy a brief relaxa-
tion from your tedious and confining
work. But did you not once tell me
that you are a Cornell man?"

"Yes, sir."

"Could n't you find a better open-
ing than a clerkship?"

"Not at first, Mr. Carleton. I
was n't prepared for a profession, you
see, and I have discovered that people

92 ^amawaca Folks

are suspicious of the ability of boys
fresh from college."

"How much longer does your vaca-
tion last?"

"Until next Monday. Three days
more, sir."

"And then you go back to work4?"
"Rested and refreshed, sir."
"Let us sit down a moment." They
had come to a bench, and after they
were seated Jim suddenly resolved to
tell the kindly old gentleman all his
story. He respected Mr. Carletori
very highly, not because he had
achieved enormous financial success
but because that success had not de-
stroyed his generous consideration for
others less fortunate. So he related
his history briefly but fully, and
when he had finished the elder man
said:

"I think you have been inconsider-
ate in dealing with your father, my
boy. I remember to have met him on
several occasions, and he impressed

Found Out 93

me as being an excellent business man
and a genial, gpod-natured fellow, as
well. But think how much unhappi-
ness your defection must have caused
him."

For once Jim was crestfallen, and
seeing that his words had made an im-
pression upon the young man Mr.
Carleton forebore further reproof and
rose to resume his walk. He spoke
pleasantly of other matters, however,
and when they parted at the post-of-
fice Jim felt that the old gentleman
was still his friend.

He attended the card party that
evening and had a good time. Tama-
waca society is made up of many lit-
tle cliques, as indeed is society every-
where, certain people being attracted
to one another through congeniality
or former association. So it happened
that the Carleton clique was one
somewhat exclusive and removed
from those to which Jim had formerly
been introduced, and he met with no

94 ^amawaca Folks

humiliating slights. Susie treated
him exactly as she had before Katie
Glaston's unfortunate arrival, and
made him grateful by neither over-
doing her cordiality nor referring to
his humble condition in life. It was
a friendly atmosphere, and put him
entirely at his ease.

The three final days of Jim's vaca-
tion were as merry and satisfactory as
the first week had been, and Susie's
charming personality grew upon him
steadily, so that he had no reason to
regret the companionship of Clara or
her particular group of friends.

The heiress, for her part, was
amazed that Susie did not promptly
cut "the clerk's" acquaintance.
"But," she remarked to Mary and
Betty, "the poor thing may not be
much herself, and is glad to associate
with anything masculine. Some folks,
you know, dear, have no occasion to
be particular."

Jim had intended to leave on Sun-

Found Out 95

day's boat for Chicago, that he might
be at work on Monday morning. But
Saturday afternoon he received an
astonishing telegram from his chief,
Mr. D. B. Glaston. It read: "Your
services will be no longer required/'

CHAPTER VII.

THE MEETING.

It did not take Jarrod long to de-
cide that there were no grounds for
Wilder5 s claim that the streets and
parks at Tamawaca were in his con-
trol. On the contrary they belonged
entirely to the cottage and lot owners,
neither Easton nor Wilder having
any more legal rights thereto than the
most insignificant cottager.

They had usurped rights, however,
of the most extraordinary character.
In the public parks, originally re-
served in the recorded plats, the part-
ners had selected the best building lo-
cations and erected cottages upon
them, which were rented at good fig-
ures. They had also sold many "lots"
that were nothing less than public
property to innocent or ignorant pur-
chasers, who had in some instances
built expensive houses upon them, re-
96

The Meeting 97

lying confidently for protection upon
the guarantee deeds Easton or Wil-
der had given them.

This wholesale disregard of peo-
ple's rights had been going on for
years — long before the present own-
ers had bought Tamawaca. From his
observations Jarrod concluded that
the former owners, of whom there had
been several sets or combinations, had
all come to a realization that their
vandalism had rendered their posi-
tions unsafe, for which reason they
had presently shifted the burden to
the shoulders of their successors, who
now were Easton and Wilder. Per-
haps these two men, because their pre-
decessors had with impunity occupied
public lands, had become more care-
less or more grasping than any of the
others, for their usurpations were on
a larger scale. Easton, for example,
had impudently placed a cottage di-
rectly in a public street, disregarding
all rights and protests.

g8 ^famawaca Folks

One day, during his rambles, Jar-
rod came upon a fine cottage perched
high on the hill overlooking the bay.
On the porch was seated an old gent-
leman whom the lawyer recognized
as Colonel Kerry.

"Come up and sit down," called
the colonel, hospitably.

So Jarrod sat down to rest.

"I'm glad to learn you're a new
resident," said Kerry. "You have
bought Lake View, I understand."

"Yes," acknowledged Jarrod.
"There was nothing to rent, so I had
Co buy a cottage or go elsewhere."

The colonel smiled.

"Plenty of places to rent," he ob-
served.

"Wilder said not."

"He may have said so. See that cot-
tage across the way? It's a very nice
place ; belongs to Grant of St. Louis ;
has been for rent all this spring."

"Oh. Wilder said it was rented.
I tried to get it, you know." ^

^fhe Meeting 99

Again the colonel smiled, and his
smile was the sardonic kind that is
sometimes exasperating.

" Wilder wanted to sell Lake
View," he exclaimed; "but he's been
holding the place for seventeen hund-
red and fifty, which is more than it's
worth. Perhaps you whittled the
price down to where it belonged."

Jarrod did not reply. He felt
rather uncomfortable under the co-
lonel's shrewd glance.

"Tamawaca's a beautiful place,"
said he, glancing over the wonderful
scene spread out before him — a scene
with few rivals in America. Framed
by the foliage of the near-by trees,
Tamawaca Pool lay a hundred feet be-
low him, its silver bosom dotted here
and there with sailing craft, launches,
or pudgy ferry-boats speeding on their
way, while the opposite shore was
lined with pretty cottages nestled in
shady groves.

you like it, sir," said the

ioo ^famawaca Folks

colonel, following his gaze. "I'm fond
of the place myself."

"But your public affairs are in a
terrible condition, Colonel Kerry."

"I agree with you."

"Why don't the people rise up, and
demand their rights?" enquired Jar-
rod, curiously.

"Simply because they 're here for
rest and enjoyment, and not to get
mixed up in law-suits and conten-
tions."

"But their vested rights are being
disregarded."

"To be sure. That is no secret, sir.
But our cottage owners are mostly
business men who come here each year
for two or three months of rest and
relaxation, and conditions which they
would fight bitterly at home they here
tamely submit to, rather than risk in-
volving their vacations in turmoil
and trouble. That's human nature,
Mr. Jarrod."

"Perhaps so," said Jarrod, doubt-

Meeting 101

fully. To him a fight was recrea-
tion, but others might feel differently
about it.

"And it's the salvation of Easton
and Wilder," continued the colonel.
"As long as people can enjoy the
sweet, fresh air, the grateful bathing,
the fishing and boating and other
recreations, they won't bother about
their rights. I feel that way myself.
No man knows better than I how our
people have been despoiled, for I've
been here many years and at one time
owned an interest in the place myself.
But others know the truth as well as
I do, and if my neighbors prefer to
submit, surely I am not called upon
to fight their battles for them."

"Why did you sell out your inter-
est?" asked Jarrod.

The colonel held a scrap of paper
in his hands. He carefully twisted
it between his fingers into a neat
spiral before he replied.

"There are two ways to make

102 tfamawaca Folks

money," said he, finally. "I favored
one way and my partners the other.
So I quit the business."

Jarrod sat silent for a time. Then
he asked:

"Does your Cottagers' Association
amount to anything?"

"No."

"Then why does it exist?"

"To save Wilder and Easton from
the danger of a more serious organiza-
tion. They encourage it. Once a year
the cottagers meet and talk things
over, and rail at their oppressors and
become very indignant. Then they
go home with the idea they've per-
formed their full duty. Those meet-
ings are good fun, Mr. Jarrod. Wil-
der always attends them and wel-
comes every cottager as cordially as if
he were giving a party. Then he sits
in a front seat and laughs heartily at
the rabid attacks upon himself and his
partner. The next annual meeting is
tomorrow night. I advise you to go."

"The Meeting 103

"I intend to," said Jarrod. "By
the way, how do Wilder and Easton
agree with each other?"

"Not at all. They constantly quar-
rel over one thing or another. Wilder
resents the fact that old man Easton
is pocketing two-thirds of the profits,
while Easton resents Wilder's habit
of laying every unpopular act to his
partner, who is therefore bitterly
hated while Wilder is considered by
many a good fellow. Each would be
glad to get rid of the other, if that
w^re possible, but neither wants to be
got rid of."

"Outside of their business pecu-
liarities/' continued the colonel, "both
these men possess many good qual-
ities. I don't want to give you a
wrong impression of them. Wilder
is really kind and accommodating. It
is his nature to want to please people
and to stand well in popular opinion.
Easton honestly believes that he is a

1O4 cfama^vaca Folks

Christian gentleman, arid he is said to
be a good father and husband. But in
their dealings with the cottagers these
partners have contracted a sort of
moral color-blindness; they can't dis-
tinguish their own rights from those
of others."

"I believe I understand you. Good
morning, Colonel."

"Good morning, Mr. Jarrod."

Saturday evening Jarrod attended
the meeting. It was held in a big,
shedlike structure in the woods called
the " Auditorium," where divine ser-
vices were held on Sundays. All
Tamawaca was there, for the men took
their wives to enjoy the "fun." It
was the only occasion during the
whole year when the cottagers got to-
gether, and here they were accustomed
to frankly air their grievances and
then go home and forget them.

On the platform sat a dignified,
pleasant faced old gentleman who
nodded courteously to each arrival.

"The Meeting 105

At the secretary's desk was a little
man intently perusing a newspaper.

When all had assembled the chair-
man arose and rapped gently upon the
rostrum.

'The meeting will please come to
order," he said, and a sudden hush
fell upon the place.

"I believe the first thing in order is
for the secretary to read the minutes
of the last meeting."

The secretary glanced over his pa-
per.

"I've mislaid 'em somewhere," he
said; "but they don't amount to any-
thing, anyhow."

The chairman looked reproachful
when the meeting joyously applauded
this announcement.

"Ahem!" he said. "Are there any
remarks?"

A tall, thin man rose from the
benches and cleared his throat. In-
stantly every eye was upon him.
Someone beside Jarrod laughed, and

io6 tfamawaca Folks

the lawyer turned around to find
Geoge B. Still seated there.

"La — dies and gen — tie — men!"
began the orator. "We are gathered
together this evening to — ah — to
meet one another. The — er — reason
we are so — ah — so gathered together
in one meeting is to — er — consider
why we should be — er — should be
brought in contact one with another
for the public welfare of Tamawaca
this gathering!"

As he paused impressively Geo. B.
murmured: "Gather up the sands
from the s — e — a sho — o — r — e!"

"I take it," continued the speaker,
raising his voice aggressively, "that
we are met here with a purpose ; I may
say — er — an object in here gathering
together. It is my earnest wish, ladies
and gentlemen, that this — er — pur-
pose may be fulfilled !"

He sat down amid a round of ap-
plause, mainly bestowed because he
sat down. But he held himself erect

^ he Meeting 107

and did n't lean against the back of
the bench for a good five minutes.

"I call for the reports of the com-
mittees," announced the chairman.

A man arose and said :

"The committee on water begs to
report that it has had the water ana-
lyzed by a competent chemist and
found the said water perfectly pure."

Here a gentleman with a ruddy
face jumped up and asked:

"Is the committee referring to the
bathing water?"

"I refer to the drinking water," said
the committee.

"Ah," ejaculated the red-faced
man, a total lack of interest in his
tone.

Little Stakes jumped up.

"I want to know why the electric
lights go out every night at ten
o'clock," he shouted, excitedly. "I
want to know why we pay — "

"Look here — you're out of order!"
cried the chairman,

io8 T^amawaca Folks

"So are the lights!" yelled Stakes;
but he sat down.

"I call for the report of the com-
mittee on lights," continued the chair-
man, in deference to the protest.

There was an intense silence.

"The committee on lights will
please report," said the chairman,
looking closely at Geo. B. Still.

The little fat man slowly arose.

"Am I the committee on lights?" he
enquired.

"You are, sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Perfectly sure, Mr. Still. I remem-
ber Mr. Bennett nominated you and
there were several seconds."

"Oh. The minutes being lost, I
supposed the seconds were lost, too."

"You were mistaken, Mr. Still."

"Well, the committee on lights,
Mr. Chairman and ladies and gentle-
men, finds that we are such good livers
we have n't the gall to make a re-

The Meeting 109

port." And Mr. Still subsided slowly
into his seat.

"Just like a lady's gown," said a
wag, jocosely: "en traile."

"I'd like to know," roared a man on
the back row of benches, "if the street
lights burn till twelve o'clock."

"Can't say," replied Geo. B. "I
don't sit up to watch 'em."

"I move the report of the committee
on lights and livers be accepted," said
the wag.

The chairman gravely put the mo-
tion and it carried.

"How about the treasurer's re-
port?" asked some one. "Did the
secretary mislay that, too?"

The secretary glared at the speaker.
Then he laid aside his newspaper,
took an old envelope from his pocket,
and read a memorandum evidently
penciled upon the back of it.

"Total receipts," said he, "one dol-
lar and eighty-nine cents. Total ex-
penditures, two cents. Total cash bal-

no tfamawaca Folks

ance on hand, one dollar and eighty-
seven cents. Respectfully submit-
ted/'

"What shall we do with the re-
port?" asked the chairman.

"I want to know where that two
cents went to," cried Mr. Calker, the
energetic gentleman on the back
bench. "I demand an itemized re-
port!"

The secretary and treasurer swore
under his breath — or almost under his
breath, while the audience laughed.

"The two cents in question," he
shouted, angrily, "was expended for
one postage stamp issued by the
United States of Amelic£, on which
there was no rebate; and the stamp
was thereafter attached to a letter to
MrC Calker asking him to pay up his
back dues to this Association — which
letter was absolutely disregarded."

"Then that* expenditure was a mis-
appropriation of public funds," said
Mr. Calker, in a satisfied tone.

tfhe Meeting 1 1 1

"Move the treasurer's apology be
accepted," said a voice.

"Move we adjourn," said another
voice.

"Wait — wait!" cried the chairman.
"We must elect our officers for the
coming year."

"Move the same officers be con-
tinued," said the last speaker.

"Second the emotion," said the tall
man.

It was carried, unanimously but
without emotion.

Then Jarrod arose to his feet, to the
evident surprise of the assemblage.

"Mr. President and ladies and
gentlemen," he began, in his rich, res-
onant voice.

The president bowed.

"Mr. — er— er"

"Jarrod."

"Mr. Jarrod has the floor."

"I am a newcomer here," said Jar-
rod, "and have recently bought the
cottage known as 'Lake View/ With

112 Tamawaca Folks

that property I acquired an equity in
all the parks and highways of Tama-
waca; but I find that some one has
usurped portions of those parks and
highways and erected cottages and
other buildings upon them. Those
buildings must be removed, and the
public lands be restored to the public.
I move you that your president be in-
structed to appoint a committee of
five cottage owners, who will be au-
thorized to take any necessary legal
steps to enforce the removal of all
buildings now upon public grounds,
and the restoration of all public lands
illegally sold and deeded to individ-
uals."

Had a bomb been exploded in their
midst the cottagers could not have
been more astonished. They gaped at
Jarrod in open-mouthed amazement,
and were silent as bridge players
struggling for the odd.

"Second the emotion," suddenly
yelled Geo. B.

T 'he Meeting 113

The chairman wiped his brow and
looked worried. He repeated the mo-
tion and asked for remarks. No one
responded. Then he put the motion
to vote, and the people shouted
"Aye!" with an enthusiasm the old
Auditorium had never heard before.
For dimly they realized that at last a
leader had come among them, and pro-
posed to do the thing they should have
done themselves years before.

"I appoint on this committee," said
the chairman, "Mr. Jarrod; Colonel
Kerry; Judge Toodles; Mr. Wright
and Mr. Teekey."

"Move we adjourn!" cried a voice.

This time the motion carried, and
the meeting adjourned.

CHAPTER VIII.

SOMETHING DOING.

Wilder could n't sleep that night.

''Something queer happened at the
meeting," he told Nora. "I can't un-
derstand exactly what it means, just
yet; but I'll find out before I need an-
other shave."

So on Sunday afternoon he walked
up to Lake View and interviewed Mr.
Jarrod as follows :

"Tell me, dear boy, what's the
joke? It was awfully funny, and I
laughed as much as anybody. But
what's your idea? Just to guy the peo-
ple?"

"My idea," said Jarrod, calmly, "is
to sue you and Easton in the courts
and make you vacate wherever you've
taken possession of public property."

"What! Sue me!"

"Exactly; you and Easton."
114

Something Doing 115

Wilder's merry face grew thought-
ful.

"Do you mean it?" he asked, a bit
uneasily.

"Certainly."

Wilder thought again. Then he
laughed.

"Why, it would ruin old Easton,"
he remarked, cheerfully; "ruin him en-
tirely. But he deserves it. I'd like
to see his face when he has to give up !
It's what he's always been afraid of —
that people would some day wake up
and make it hot for him."

"How about yourself?" asked Jar-
rod.

"Oh, it would ruin me, too, if you
carried out the plan," admitted Wil-
der. "But you won't carry it out."

"Why not?"

"Because you can do better."

"In what way?"

"See here, Mr. Jarrod," drawing his
chair closer; "I take it we're friends,
and can talk this over confidentially.

n6 ^famawaca Folks

What Tamawaca needs ain't to get
back the few lots we've built on, but
to improve what there is left. We
need new walks and driveways and a
lot of public improvements. We need
to clear up the rubbish and make
things look decent. We need a new
hotel, and a lot of other things to
please the people and make 'em hap-
pier and more comfortable."

"That's true," said Jarrod. "But
why, as one of the owners of Maca-
£awa, have n't you attended to these
things?'

"Me? How could I? I've only got a
third interest, and the man don't live
that can wring a nickel out of Easton
for public improvements. I've quar-
relled with him and fought with him
for years to try to get something done ;
but he just won't. Says he has n't got
the money; and perhaps that's true,
for we lose money here every year."

"Oh, you do, eh?'

"Of course. Everything the com-

Something Doing 117

pany owns is run at a loss — electric
light plant, water works, ferries, ho-
tel, boat liveries — everything! By
hard work Nora and I manage to make
a bare living from our little mercan-
tile enterprises and the cottages we
own and rent — just a bare living. But
the company property is a dead one.
If things were kept up better we might
sell some more lots, and get more peo-
ple here, and so make a little money;
but Easton don't see it that way."

"How does he see it?"

"Why, he just wants to putter
'round and lose money. I've tried to
buy him up, so as to make something
of the place myself; but he won't sell.
That is, he would n't sell before this.
But I imagine he would now."

"Because if we sue him he will lose
it all?"

"You've hit the nail on the head!
Listen, dear boy : you take your com-
mittee to Easton tomorrow and
threaten to sue him if he won't sell

n8 tfamawaca Folks

out for — say, er — thirty thousand dol-
lars. That's all the property's worth.
He'll sell, or my name ain't Wilder.
Get an option to purchase within thir-
ty days."

"And then?"

Wilder turned half around and
gave a solemn wink.

"Then if the cottagers can't raise
the money, I'll raise it for 'em!"

"Good!" exclaimed Jarrod. "I
think they'll raise it."

"And I think they won't," returned
Wilder, smiling sweetly. "They're a
bunch of oysters. Whenever I try to
raise a few hundreds by subscription
to build a new walk, they throw me
down."

"Because it is your property," sug-
gested Jarrod. "You and Easton owe
a duty to the cottagers to keep the
walks in repair at your own expense."

"Well, it'll all be different if we
can get the old man to sell out."

Something Doing 119

"Will you assist us?" asked the
lawyer.

"Sure thing. I'll agree to take ten
thousand for my third, although it
cost me a good deal more years ago.
That'll leave twenty thousand for
Easton's share, and it's all he deserves.
But never mind the details. You just
get that option for thirty thousand,
and the game's won."

"I'll try," promised Jarrod.

Nora saw that her better half wore
a broad smile when he returned to her.

"What's the result, presh?" she
asked — the endearing term being a
contraction of "precious."

"The result has n't happened yet,"
he answered, evasively; "but when it
does my dream will come true, little
wife, and I'll own Tamawaca."

"That's nice," she replied. Then,
as he turned toward the door: "Are
you going out again?"

"Why, I promised Nancy Todd
that I'd stay with her father while she

12O ^amawaca Folks

went to Kochton on an errand," he
said, resuming his usual cheery man-
ner. "Old Todd's all crippled up
with rheumatism and helpless as an
infant in arms. Nancy has n't any
one to leave him with, so I told her I'd
look after the old man myself."

"I'm glad you did, presh," said the
little woman, earnestly. "It'll do
Nancy a world of good to get away
from him for a time. She's all used
up with the nursing and worry. And
while you're over at Todd's I'll drop
in and see poor Mrs. Jones, who is sick
in bed and needs cheering up. We'll
both be back by supper-time, I guess."

That was the way with the Wil-
ders. Sharks in business and the
tenderest and sweetest of all human-
ity when anyone needed a helping
hand.

I once heard an irascible old cot-
tager exclaim: "Damn the Wilders'
scheming heads!" And then, after a
pause: "But God bless their kindly

Something Doing 121

hearts!" It was the epitome of their
characters, expressed in a nutshell.
How we all swore at them — yet how
we loved them !

CHAPTER IX.

DEVELOPING THE NEGATIVE.

Jarrod got his Committee of Five
together and looked them over. As
might be expected they were a queer-
ly assorted lot and promised to be dif-
ficult to manage.

The promise was fulfilled during
the several meetings of the committee
that were quietly held on back
porches. Colonel Kerry was the one
tower of strength; but a man used to
managing thousands of miners and
keeping them in order was not likely
to be easily managed himself. Kerry
was odd as Dick's hat band and
had little to say at the meetings.
He read Jarrod's purpose clearly,
and endorsed it; but the old fel-
low could n't stand the arguments
and wandering suggestions of his
fellow members on the committee.
While he listened he tore a fragment

122

Developing the Negative 123

from an old letter or newspaper
and rolled it with infinite care
and skill into the inevitable spiral,
shaping the thing between his fingers
as carefully as if it were something
precious. But if anything occurred to
annoy him he promptly destroyed the
spiral, put on his hat, and walked
home without a word. Then Jarrod
had to go after him and urge and ex-
plain until Kerry consented to come
back to the meeting.

The members of the committee
were all prominent men. If Kerry
could have cursed them freely every-
thing would have been harmonious —
as far as he was concerned. As he
could n't swear his only recourse was
to quit and go home.

The author fellow, Mr. Wright,
was another hard proposition. He
was stubborn, loud-mouthed and pig-
headed, and wanted to carry every-
thing with a high hand, the way they
do in novels. He had about as much

124 tfamawaca Folks

diplomacy as a cannon-ball, and his
fellow members had to sit on him
twice a minute to keep him from spoil-
ing everything. Judge Toodles knew
a heap of law but was sure to get
tangled in its intricacies, and when he
tried to unravel himself was nearly as
lucid and logical as a straw in a cock-
tail. Teekey was an unknown quan-
tity. He owned a fine cottage built
on public property, and although he
had originally been an "innocent pur-
chaser" his doubtful title so worried
him that he was accustomed to obtain
from Wilder and Easton a new deed
about once a year, and each deed he
filed gave him a little more public
land. He was reputed a wealthy and
eminently respectable gentleman,
and the chances of his fighting on the
side of the cottagers and jeopardizing
his own property to assert the prin-
ciples of right and justice were con-
sidered good — but not gilt-edged.
With this ill-assorted material Jar-

Developing the Negative 125

rod labored until he molded it into
shape. For it must be admitted that
in the end the members of the com-
mittee stood shoulder to shoulder and
did their full duty by the cottagers
who had appointed them. By these
five Tamawaca was redeemed and its
incubi unseated.

Meantime Jarrod had reluctantly
indulged in several interviews with
old Easton. This man was a most pe-
culiar character. He loved to sing
hymns and made an excellent exhor-
tation at any religious gathering. In-
deed, one milk-fed preacher who lived
on the hill was openly jealous of his
evangelistic abilities. But the miserly
instinct was predominant in Easton's
nature and, as Wilder expressed it, he
could "squeeze a cent till it hollered."
It was this characteristic that sub-
verted all the good in his nature and
made him universally detested. Wil-
der, his partner, pursued his system
of graft with the grace and cheeriness

126 Tamawaca Folks

of a modern Dick Turpin. Wilder
was open-handed and charitable, gen-
erous on occasion, always hospitable,
and more crafty than roguish. Easton
was deliberate and calculating in his
extortions and, like the ostrich who
hides his head in the sand to escape
observation, fondly imagined that no
one suspected his persistent brigand-
age. He derived a fat income from
the necessities of the cottagers but
pleaded poverty as an excuse for not
doing his duty by them. His methods
were sly and stealthy and he looked
grieved and hurt if any exasperated
cottager frankly called him a damned
scoundrel.

Jarrod forced himself to cultivate
Eas ton's society in order to study the
man, for the elder partner's mild blue
eyes and innocent expression puzzled
him at first. Easton, for his part, con-
sidered Jarrod an impertinent med-
dler, but resolved to use him as an in-

Developing the Negative 127

strument to carry out a pet scheme he
had for dispossessing Wilder.

"With Wilder' s interest out of the
way," he would observe, "everything
would be well at lovely Tamawaca.
If I were the sole proprietor here the
cottagers would soon find out how
dearly I love them. Wilder obstructs
all my generous plans to improve con-
ditions, and I'd like to buy him out."

"Why don't you?" enquired Jar-
rod.

"He won't sell to me," was the re-
ply. "But perhaps we can fool him."

"How?"

"I'll explain — in confidence. You
buy out his interest. Tell him you'll
make it very uncomfortable for him
if he refuses to sell. See? I'll furnish
the money, and afterward you can
turn the whole thing over to me."
• "Would that be fair and honor-
able?" asked Jarrod, gravely.

"Would I propose it, otherwise?"
returned Easton, as if surprised at the

128 ^amawaca Folks

question. "Mr. Jarrod, my feet are in
the straight and narrow way, and I
will not diverge from the path of rec-
titude. But if in that path appears a
snake, I am surely justified in scotch-
ing it. You buy out Wilder, as I said,
and then I'll buy you out. Nothing
dishonest in that — eh?"

'Til think it over," said the lawyer.
"I may decide to buy you both out."

"Of course. As a blind. But only
as a blind, you understand."

"I don't understand everything
just now, Mr. Easton. I must give
the matter some careful thought."

During several similar conversa-
tions, however, Jarrod came to know
his man intimately, and as his knowl-
edge grew his respect for the "Father
of Tamawaca" decreased. Neither
Easton nor Wilder believed the cot-
tagers would ever assert their rights,
and therefore each was scheming des-
perately to oust his partner and get
the control in his own hands.

Developing the Negative 129

Finally Jarrod decided the time
had arrived to act. He got together
his committee of five, explained to
them his plans, and received the as-
surance of their loyal support. Then,
a meeting being arranged, they called
in a body upon Easton at his office
and frankly stated that the partners
must sell out to the cottagers all their
interests at Tamawaca or prepare to
stand a law suit for the recovery of
the public lands illegally sold and oc-
cupied by them.

Perhaps Easton imagined that Jar-
rod had taken his cue and was acting
upon it. He tried to restrain a smile
of triumph in order to listen gravely
to the proposition.

Wilder sat in a corner and hugged
himself gleefully. The old man was
"up against it" at last, and Wilder
was responsible for forcing him to
"face the music" — at least that was
Wilder's belief.

Jarrod, in behalf of the cottagers,

130 tfamawaca Folks

began the interview by calmly stating
their case. They had been robbed of
certain public lands that belong to
them in legal equity, and the partners
had not only sold these lands to them-
selves, individually, and built cot-
tages and public buildings upon
them, but had conveyed many of these
lands to others, giving them warranty
deeds in lieu of clear titles. If the
matter was brought to the attention of
the courts Easton and Wilder would
be obliged to make these warrants
good; in which case, so extensive had
been the fraudulent sales, such an or-
der from the court would involve the
partners in financial ruin.

However, it was not the desire of
the cottagers to ruin their oppressors.
They much preferred to buy out their
holdings at Tamawaca, and be rid of
them forever. Therefore they offered
thirty thousand dollars for the prop-
erty, assuming in addition to the pur-

Developing the Negative 131

chase price some six or eight thou-
sands of standing indebtenness.

Jarrod might be carying out "the
blind," but something in his manner
as he made this clear and uncontro-
vertible statement disturbed Easton's
equanimity and rendered him suspi-
cious that the lawyer had not properly
swallowed the bait that had been
dangled before him. But in this junc-
ture he could think of no way to
escape. Whichever way he looked he
encountered the cold eyes of the de-
termined and resentful committee of
five, and to delay his answer until he
could sound Jarrod was impossible.
Moreover, Wilder, who acted his part
admirably, seemed to Easton to have
tumbled blindly into his trap. The
junior partner declared that he was
willing to dispose of his one-third in-
terest for ten thousand dollars, and
the fear that he might retract this of-
fer led Easton to close with the prop-
osition made him by the cottagers.

132 ^famawaca Folks

At the worst he could wiggle out of it
in some way, he believed; so the one
thing to do was to nail Wilder on the
spot.

The final result of this serio-comic
interview was that Wilder and Eas-
ton both signed an option in favor of
Jarrod as trustee for the cottagers,
agreeing to sell the entire real and
personal property in which they were
jointly interested for thirty thousand
dollars, at any time within thirty days
following that date.

When the option was signed and in
his pocket Jarrod felt that his purpose
was accomplished. His committee had
redeemed this beautiful summer re-
sort from all speculative evils, ensur-
ing its future control to the cottagers
themselves, whose best interests
would now be conserved.

It was indeed a great triumph, and
the Committee of Five solemn!}' shook
hands with one another and went

Developing the Negative 133

home to tell their wives and neighbors
of their success.

Wilder, in the seclusion of his own
home, danced a jig of jubilation.

"They've got the option," he said
to Nora, "but they've got no money.
I'll furnish the money to take up the
option — and the deed is done!"

"Will they give you the option?"
asked Nora.

"Why not? Somebody's got to
make the bluff good, and I'm the only
one that can afford to. What do these
folks want of a summer resort? They
could n't run it properly for five min-
utes. And Easton's the man they
hate, because he's always stood in the
way of public improvements. Wil-
der's their friend — eh? — and they'll
all be glad when he's the whole
thing."

Easton was a bit less sanguine.
"The situation," he told his better
half, "is not as clear as I wish it was.
But I've never yet failed to get my

i,34 tfamawaca Folks

way with the cottagers, and a little
diplomacy ought to enable me to win
this time. My only fear is that Jar-
rod may not be honest."

CHAPTER X.

JIM GETS A RAISE.

Jim opened the fatal telegram in
the post-office, and his face must have
been a study; for Jarrod, who was ob-
serving it from a distance, became in-
terested and at once approached his
young friend.

"No bad news, I hope, Jim?'

The boy laughed and held out the
telegram.

"Just a kick in the dark, Mr. Jar-
rod, and it only hurts because it was
so unexpected. I've been a model
clerk, you know, and now that I've
just spent my surplus capital on a va-
cation, I'm granted another and
longer one, without pay. Well," with
an involuntary sigh, "there are other
clerkships, of course, and I'll probably
get one. But you've no idea, sir, how
much labor it takes to find a job at

136 T'amawaca Folks

twelve a week — especially in the sum-

mer season.'

"Jim," said Jarrod, thoughtfully,
"this is a bit of good luck, if judged
from my own selfish viewpoint. I need
some one very badly, to help me clear
up a lot of accumulated work. Would
vou mind being my clerk for a few
weeks?"

Jim's face was beaming.

"Do you really mean it, Mr. Jar-
rod? Can I be of use to you?"

"Indeed you can, my boy. You'll
have to stay at Tamawaca, but as a
worker instead of a drone. Can you
run a typewriter?"

ccYes; I used one at college for a
couple of years, and got to be fairly
expert. But I know nothing of short-
hand."

"That is n't necessary. I shall re-
quire your services every forenoon,
but you may have the afternoons to
yourself. I'll give you twenty dollars

Jim Gets a Raise 137

a week and pay your board at the ho-
tel."

"Is n't that too much, Mr. Jarrod?'

"Not for the work you must do.
Any intelligent man would cost me
that much, and I will need you but a
couple of months — until I go home."

"Very good, sir. I'll do my best to
please you."

"Then you're my secretary. Come
around to my cottage at nine o'clock
Monday morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Jarrod."

That evening Jim told Susie he
would not have to bid her good-bye,
as they had expected, for he had been
discharged as a dry-goods clerk and
employed as a private secretary, which
was a distinct advance in his fortunes.

Susie listened gravely, but was evi-
dently much pleased.

"The girls told me yesterday," she
said, "that Katie had written her
father and asked him to discharge
you, because you had been impudent

138 ^famawaca Folks

enough to become acquainted with the
exclusive young ladies of Tamawaca
under false pretenses."

"But I did n't, Susie! I met them
through your accident, and they never
asked me how I earned a living."

"I know; but they forget that. They
say you imposed upon them by assum-
ing that you are a gentleman."

Jim laughed merrily.

"Where do you draw the line,
Susie, between a gentleman and — and
— what's the other thing? — an unde-
sirable acquaintance?"

"Perhaps so. I don't draw the line,
myself, so you must ask the girls to ex-
plain. Perhaps, now that you've be-
come the private secretary of a famous
lawyer, you will be cultivated instead
of being snubbed. But I'm not sure
of that."

Jim started work Monday morning
and found his task no sinecure. Jar-
rod had a lot of correspondence to an-
swer and a good many papers to be

Jim Gets a Raise 139

copied. Also there was an inventory
to be made of the property covered by
the option given by Easton and Wil-
der, and their books to be gone over.
But Jim was both industrious and in-
telligent, and seemed to "fit the job"
very well indeed.

Katie Glaston's triumph was brief.
She had actually boosted Jim several
pegs on the road to fortune, and when
the girl discovered this she was so pro-
voked that she left Tamawaca and
went to visit friends at Spring Lake.

The other girls began to be properly
ashamed of themselves, although the
heiress refused to alter her opinion
that "a poor young man had no busi-
ness at a summer resort."

Gladys and Betty began nodding
to Jim as he passed by, and although
he returned the salutations with
graceful politeness he never stopped
or attempted to resume the old
friendly relations. He had grown
wonderfully fond of plain little

140 tfamaivaca Folks

Susie, who had remained his faithful
adherent, and her society seemed just
now fully sufficient to satisfy all his
needs. He even took her to some of
the dances, and found her a much
more satisfactory partner than on
that first evening when he met her
and tested her accomplishments as a
Terpsichore. She was still a bit awk-
ward, but the little speeches they
whispered to each other made them
forget they were dancing until the
music stopped and reminded them of
the fact. The heiress had a new beau
— a bulky blond named Neddie Rop-
er— who was reputed a social lion and
a railway magnate, although it after-
ward transpired he worked in the
Pullman shops. Therefore Clara pos-
itively ignored "that Smith girl and
her dry-goods clerk," who ought to
have felt properly humiliated, but
did n't.

Wilder came to Jarrod in a day or
so and said:

Jim Gets a Raise 141

"Well, dear boy, I've got the cold
cash in hand to take up that option;
so if you'll turn it over to me I'll set-
tle the matter in a jiffy."

"In what way?" asked Jarrod.

"Why, I'll pay Easton his twenty
thousand and let him go. And then
I'll begin an era of public improve-
ments, and try to induce the cottagers
to fix things up a bit."

"I can't let you have the option,"
replied Jarrod. "It was given to me
as trustee for the cottagers, and be-
longs to them."

"Have they got thirty thousand
dollars to take it up?'

"No; not yet."

"And they never will have it," de-
clared Wilder. "Your cottagers are
a lot of corn-cobs, and you could n't
squeeze any juice out of them with a
cider-press."

"I'm not sure of that," returned
Jarrod, smiling. "Anyhow, the op-
tion is theirs to accept or reject, and

142 T^amawaca Folks

I've called a meeting for Saturday
night to find out what they wish
to do."

That worried Wilder a little until
he reflected that the cottagers' meet-
ings were all "hot air and soap-bub-
bles." They could n't raise thirty
thousand dollars for Tamawaca in
thirty years, and sooner or later the
option would be turned over to him
as a matter of course.

Meantime old man Easton had
been quietly observant of the situa-
tion, and after the meeting of the cot-
tagers was announced his suspicions
that Jarrod was "not honest" took
definite form and threw him into a
condition bordering upon nervous
prostration. He made a bee-line for
the lawyer's cottage, and found Jar-
rod sunning himself on the front
porch.

"Good morning, Mr. Jarrod," he
began, cordially.

Jarrod nodded, but did not ask his

Jim Gets a Raise 143

visitor to be seated. He had just been
going through the books of the part-
ners and had discovered things that
to his mind rendered social inter-
course with a man like Easton impos-
sible.

"I've called around to get that op-
tion," remarked the old man, seating
himself upon the porch railing.

"What option?'

"The one I gave you so as to fool
Wilder. You know what I mean,"
with an attempt at a jocose laugh
which ended in an hysterical gurgle.

"Do you refer to the option you
granted to me, as trustee for the cot-
tagers of Tamawaca?" asked the law-
yer, coldly.

"Why — why — that was only a
bluff, you know. I gave you the op->
tion so as to buy out Wilder. You
know that well enough."

Jarrod shook his head.

"The option belongs to the cot-

144 tfamawaca Folks

tagers," he said. "You can't have it,
Mr. Easton."

"What! Can't have the option!"
His voice expressed both astonish-
ment and reproach.

"By no means."

"I — I'm — afraid I'm going to — to
faint!" gasped Easton in a wailing
voice, as he fanned himself with his
hat.

"I would n't," remarked the law-
yer.

"But I — Oh, this is terrible — ter-
rible!" gasped the old man, piteously.
"If I don't get that option, Mr.
Jarrod, I shall be ruined — utterly
ruined!"

His frail body swayed from side to
side, and with eyes half shut he
watched the effect of his misery upon
the stern faced man seated before
him.

"Quite likely," said Jarrod, yawn-
ing.

"Ruined — ruined! At my age to

Jim Gets a Raise 145

face the poor-house! Oh, my poor
family — oh, — oh, — oh !"

He leaned backward, threw up his
arms and fell over the rail of the
porch to lie motionless on the soft
sand beneath.

Jarrod laughed. After a minute or
so of silence he said calmly:

"There's a red spider crawling up
your left pant-leg."

Easton sat up and with a nervous
motion shook the bottoms of his
trousers. Then he glanced at his per-
secutor, who was just now gazing re-
flectively over the smooth waters of

j

the lake, which showed between the
foliage of the trees.

"Sir," said the old man, in a voice
trembling with emotion, as he dusted
the sand from his clothes and once
more mounted the steps of the porch,
"you are a cold-blooded brute!"

"I know," acknowledged Jarrod.
"But I'm not as bad as I used to be.
Ask my wife. She'll tell you I have

146 T^amawaca Folks

n't knocked her down and stamped on
her in over a month."

Easton sighed. He must change
his tactics, evidently.

"I take it," he remarked, in a
mournful voice, "that this is a busi-
ness matter."

"You should have taken it that
way before," said Jarrod.

Easton brightened.

"Of course," he rejoined. "How
careless of me ! But now, I trust, we
understand each other. How much,
Mr. Jarrod?"

"Eh?"

Easton glanced furtively around
to assure himself there were no listen-
ers.

"How much will you take to de-
liver to me that paper — the option I
gave you the other day?"

"Sir!"

"That's all right. Get as indignant
as you like, Mr. Jarrod. I admire you
for it. But just state your figure and

Jim Gets a Raise 147

I'll write you a check." He took out
a check-book, and began to unscrew
his fountain-pen. "Every man has
his price, of course; but I know you
won't rob me, Mr. Jarrod. You'll be
reasonable, because I'm an old man
and can't afford to — "

A door slammed and he looked up
startled. The porch was empty save
for his own astonished person, and
after waiting five or ten minutes for
the lawyer to return Easton slowly
slid his check-book into his pocket and
tottered home with feeble, uncertain
steps.

After that interview Jarrod seemed
different, even to his friends. His
jaw was set and his eyes had a steely
gleam in them that boded no good to
any who might interfere with his pur-
poses. Never before, even in those
wild days when he strove to control
the Crosbys, had he felt so humiliated
and humbled in his own estimation,
and his one desire was to have done

148 Tatnawaca Folks

with this miserable business as soon
as possible.

The cottagers' meeting was a sur-
prise not only to Wilder, who took
pains to be present and had pains be-
cause of it, but to the participants
themselves. Jarrod's report of what
had been accomplished set them wild
with enthusiasm, and when they real-
ized that their committee had faith-
fully served their interests and found
a way to release them from the bond-
age of Easton and Wilder, they
promptly awoke from their customary
lethargy and voted to take up the
option. Every person present agreed
to subscribe for stock in a new
company composed exclusively of
cottagers, which would thereafter
own and control Tamawaca and oper-
ate the public utilities without profit
and for the benefit of the community
as a whole.

"But," said Wilder to Jarrod, next
day, "you can't issue stock until you

Jim Gets a Raise 149

have the property, and you have no
way to raise the thirty thousand to
get the property. Why not turn the
option over to me without any more
fooling?"

"Wait," replied the lawyer, smil-
ing. He did not resent Wilder' s
eagerness to get the option, because
he was frank and straightforward in
his methods. But his one word was
so far from encouraging that Wilder
looked at him and shuddered involun-
tarily. Never in his experience had
he encountered a man like this, who
did n't know when he was beaten and
could n't be cajoled or bulldozed.
From that moment his fears grew, un-
til he was forced to realize that in
carrying out his clever scheme to oust
his partner he had also ousted himself
from a peculiarly profitable business
enterprise.

Wilder was right in his statement
that it had always been impossible to
induce the cottagers to put any money

150 tfamawaca Folks

into public improvements; yet that
was because they realized they were
asked to pay for things that Easton
and Wilder shouLd/have done at their
own expense. But conditions had
now changed. Jarrod could have had
a hundred thousand dollars as easily
as the thirty required to take up the
option. A dozen stood ready to ad-
vance the money, but the lawyer se-
lected three of the most public spir-
ited and liberal of the cottagers, and
made them popular by letting them
advance ten thousand each. The op-
tion was taken up, because neither
Easton nor Wilder could find a way
to legally withdraw from its terms,
and the transfer was consummated,
all the property being formally deed-
ed to the newly incorporated Tama-
waca Association.

Thus ended one of the most amus-
ing financial intrigues on record. The
amount involved was insignificant;
Tamawaca itself is almost unknown

Jim Gets a Raise 15 1

in the great world. Yet the three-
cornered game was as carefully
planned and played as any of the
campaigns of Napoleon, and it was
won because each of the partners con-
spired against the other and was final-
ly content to be a loser by the deal as
long as he could cause annoyance to
his enemy. Never, in all probability,
could the cottagers in any other way
have been able to secure control of
the beautiful resort where they had
built their summer homes.

As for Jarrod, he hid to escape con-
gratulations that were showered upon
him from every side, and in the se-
clusion of his side porch breathed a
sigh of relief.

CHAPTER XI

ROUGH-HOUSING.

Jim speedily found himself upon
friendly terms with all the "resorters"
at Tamawaca. He worked for Jarrod
mornings and in the afternoons and
evenings enjoyed himself thoroughly.
When "Ragatta Week" arrived — the
week of the Yacht Club boat races,
when the four yachtsmen competed
for the prizes that were donated by
the liberal merchants of Kochton and
Grand Rapids, and divided the spoils
amicably — during that week Jim
helped to get up the annual "Vene-
tian Evening," the one really famous
attraction of the year.

On this occasion the entire bay was
enclosed with lines of gorgeous Jap-
anese lanterns placed in artistic de-
signs along the shore. The Yacht
Club, the hotels at Iroquois Bay and
Tamacawa and all the buildings
152

Rough-Housing 153

facing the bay were elaborately dec-
orated with bunting and lanterns,
while the sail-boats anchored upon the
mirror-like surface of the water dis-
played a like splendor. Bands played
on the ferry-boats, bonfires on the
neighboring heights glared and twin-
kled, many launches brilliant with
colored lights moved slowly over the
bay, while rockets and roman candles
sent their spluttering displays into
the dim sky overhead. All the world
was there to see the sight and the pop-
corn and peanut men reaped a harvest.

It has been seriously asserted that
Venice in its palmiest days has never
been able to compete with Tamawaca
on "Venetian Evening."

During the delightful August
weather social functions at the resort
reached their acme of enjoyment and
followed one another as thickly as the
fleeting hours would permit. In some
circles these affairs were conducted
with much solemn propriety; but

154 tfamawaca Folks

many folks who suffered under the
imperious exactions of "good form"
during the rest of the year revolted
from its tyranny while on their sum-
mer vacations, and loved to be merry
and informal. They were gathered
from many cities of the South, East,
North and West, and here thrown to-
gether in a motley throng whose ante-
cedents and established social posi-
tions at home it would be both diffi-
cult and useless to determine. So
certain congenial circles were formed
with the prime object of "having a
good time," and they undoubtedly
succeeded in their aim.

Jim, who before he quarrelled with
his father had been accustomed to
mingle with the 400 of old St. Louis,
was greatly amused at some of these
entertainments, many of which he at-
tended with demure little Susie.

Rivers, a jolly fellow who owned
a lake front cottage — one of the titles
to distinction at Tamawaca — organ-

Rough-Housing 155

ized a "surprise party" on George B.
Still (another lake-fronter) one eve-
ning. A band of some twenty people
assembled at the cottage of a neigh-
bor, all carrying baskets laden with
frosted bricks in place of cake, beer-
bottles filled with clear spring water
but still bearing Budweiser labels,
mud-pies with nicely browned crusts,
turnips fried to resemble Saratoga
chips and other preposterous dona-
tions of a similar character.

Then they stole silently to George's
cottage, and when he opened the door
in answer to their timid knock bui-t
into a sudden flood of merriment that
never subsided until after midnight.

The Stills were as pleased as could
be, but no one paid much attention
to them. Somebody thumped the
piano while everybody else danced a
two-step regardless of interfering toes
or furniture.

Little Drybug, a dapper man who
weighed about seventy-six pounds

156 cfama^vaca Folks

but didn't look so heavy, cavorted
with blushing Mrs. Still who weighed
something less than three hundred —
but not much — and nearly committed
suicide in the attempt. Commodore
Diller danced with Grandma Jones,
a rosy-cheeked antiquity who blushed
as charmingly as a girl of sixteen, and
the general mix-up was about as
laughable as could well be.

In the breathless pause that pres-
ently ensued as a matter of course,
Mr. Idowno, a solemn faced gentle-
man who had attended the party with
his smiling, chubby wife but could not
dance a single caper, protested in an
audible tone that it was time he must
be going. "I have to work for a liv-
ing, you know," explained this indi-
vidual, who was director in several
banks and controlled a number of
business enterprises and could not get
them off his mind.

But the company laughed him to
scorn ancl decided to play "five hun-

Rough-Housing 157

dred" for a series of prizes that had
not been provided in advance, and
were therefore invisible.

So the self-invited guests rigged up
card tables and chose partners and
fought and quarreled for points until
Mrs. Rivers rung a gong and invited
all to supper.

Then they jumped up and trooped
into an adjoining room, where the
frosted bricks and mud pies had been
spread for a banquet; and although
George B. accepted his donations
with good humor the guests began to
wonder if the joke was not on them-
selves, after all, since their jolly exer-
tions had created a demand in their
interiors for real food.

"Well, I must be going," said the
solemn Idowno. "I have to work
for-

"This way, please!" called Mrs.
Still, cheerily, and threw open anoth-
er door, disclosing an enticing array

158 Tamawaca Folks

of provender that caused a stampede
in that direction.

"How on earth did you happen to
have all this on hand?" Susie en-
quired of Mrs. Still, as she and Jim
squeezed themselves into a corner.
"Did n't Mrs. Rivers keep her sur-
prise party a secret?"

"Of course, as secret as she can keep
anything," answered the laughing
hostess; "but I had an intuition
there' d be a lot of hungry folks here
tonight, so we've been busy all day
getting ready for them."

After the supper, which consumed
two hours in being consumed, Mr.
Idowno once more claimed he must be
going; but the guests rose up and
loudly demanded the prizes they had
won at cards. From the size of the
hubbub it appeared that nearly every
one present was entitled to a prize.

For once the Stills were non-
plussed. They really had n't thought
of "prizes" for their surprise party,

Rough-Housing 159

and hesitated what to say or do. But
their guests settled the matter in their
own way.

Mr. Iward took possession of a Jap-
anese screen; Mrs. Rivers grabbed a
mantel ornament; Mrs. Jarrod seized
upon an antique candlestick she had
long coveted and plump Mrs. Diller
grabbed a picture off the wall. Mrs.
Purspyre found a Bible and appropri-
ated it because she had always had a
curiosity to read it. Mr. Bowsir
espied a paper-cutter of ivory, which
he secured after a struggle with
George B., who wanted it himself,
while Katherine Pance swiped an em-
broidered cover from the center-table
and Mr. Connover took the table it-
self.

And so, amid screams and laughter,
the pretty room was despoiled of its
treasures, for the Stills were greatly
outnumbered by their guests and pow-
erless to protect their property.

As the heavily laden company

160 T^amawaca Folks

trooped away down the walk, singing
as blithely as the forty thieves might
have done, Mr. Wright, the author-
man, who had really won a prize but
found the place stripped when he re-
turned from the dining-room (where
he had been to hunt for one last sand-
wich) gave a sigh and lifted the front
door from its hinges, carrying it home
with many protests that "it was just
about as useful as any prize he had
won that year."

And so ended the "surprise party,"
but little Minnie Still said confiden-
tially to her chum next day :

"We had a rough-house at our cot-
tage last night, and they behaved just
dreadful! Why, if we young folks
ever acted the way those old married
people did, my mother would send me
back to Quincy in double-quick time."

Such commentaries by children
upon their elders are doubly sad when
they happen to be true.

CHAPTER XII.

MRS. HERRINGFORD'S PARTY.

"Jim," said Colonel Kerry, meet-
ing the young man at the post-office,
"that cottage of Grant's, up near
mine, has been rented at last. The*
parties took possession today."

"Who got it, Colonel?"

"One of the big millionaires of St.
Louis, they say; and he's arrived with
his wife and daughters and a whole
gang of servants. Jarrod says he's a
capital fellow, but did n't mention
the size of the capital. Money won't
buy health, Jim, and the poor Midas
is an invalid and came here to try tq
brace up."

Jim was white and staring.

"You — you did n't hear the name,
Colonel?"

"Why, yes; it's Everton."

The young man gave a low, solemn
whistle and walked away with a
161

162 T'amawaca Folks

guilty and disturbed demeanor, while
the colonel favored a group that had
overheard his remarks with further
particulars concerning the new ar-
rival.

There was considerable excitement
in quiet Tamawaca over the advent
of the Evertons; for while the resort
boasted several families of great
wealth, none was so marvelously rich
or of such conspicuous note as the well
known patent medicine man who had
won mountains of gold by the sale of
his remedies. And when it was un-
derstood his own poor health had
brought him to this place to seek re-
lief the folks were really shocked, and
George B. Still declared he would
send the poor man a bottle of "Ever-
ton's Magic Healer'5 and ask him to
read the printed testimonials. The
affair was a nine days' gossip because
the people had for the time exhausted
the subject of Easton & Wilder and
craved excitement.

Mrs. Herring ford's Party 163

When Jim went to Susie with a
hanging head and told her his father
had come to the very place where he
had himself taken refuge, the girl
counselled with him seriously, and ad-
vised him not to run away but rather
to meet his family frankly and if pos-
sible resume friendly relations with
them.

"The only thing that Mr. Carle ton
urges against our engagement," she
said, "is that you have not treated
your parents fairly in this matter.
And your poor father is ill, they say,
and must be unhappy over the deser-
tion of his only son. How do you
feel about it, Jim"?"

"Why, I have n't looked at the
matter in that light before, Susie/' he
replied. "But I'll think it over and
try to do what is right. What do we
do this evening?"

"We're invited to Mrs. Herring-
ford's party, and I'm curious to go
and see what it will be like. The old

164 T^amawaca Folks

lady is the mother of Mrs. Drybug —
you remember the Drybugs, don't
you? Both the little dears weigh
about as much as a healthy schoolboy,
and they remind one of ants because
they're so busy and you have to be
careful not to step on them."

"I remember. If Mrs. Herringford
is the mother of the Drybugs she
ought to be able to do stunts."

"Well, let's go."

So they went, as curious as every
one else who had been invited, and
were glad they did not miss the show.

The oldest inhabitant could not re-
member when Mrs. Herringford had
ever entertained before. At the Yacht
Club card parties she was always in evi-
dence, and the little lady played such
an earnest, strenuous game that the
men rather avoided being her partners.
Once George B. Still, being caught,
"bid" with such desperate reckless-
ness that he set back poor Mrs. Her-
ringford far enough to ruin her game,

Mrs. Herring ford's Party 165

and she went home broken-hearted.
But usually she glared at her partner
so fiercely that he played with un-
usual care and made the game a busi-
ness and not a diversion. Every one
liked her, when she was at some other
card table.

Tonight the lady wished to repay
all her social obligations in a bunch
by giving a party at her cottage. Be-
ing rather nervous, she asked Mrs.
McCoy and the Widow Marsh to as-
sist her to receive. Mrs. McCoy was
a sweet little woman who was every
body's friend and therefore could re-
fuse Mrs. Herringford nothing that
might please her, while the Widow
Marsh was possessed of such grace
and beauty that she charmed every
male heart in spite of her modest
ways and made the women with hus-
bands nervous whenever she was
around.

With two such drawing cards the
Herringford party could scarcely fail

166 tfamawaca Folks

of success, yet as the guests slowly ar-
rived the atmosphere of gloom that
hung over the place was hard to dissi-
pate. Mr. Idowno, one of the first
comers, began to look at his watch and
suggest that it was time to go, as "he
had to work for a living;" but the
Widow Marsh suspected his intention
and made him forget his worries by
sitting at his side and telling him how
young he was growing.

The invited guests were so slow to
arrive that some never came at all,
but bye and bye there were enough
to start the card playing, and then the
hostess made them a clever speech.

"I have n't any prizes for the win-
ners," she announced, "because I
want a very harmonious gathering
here tonight and prizes always result
in disappointment, malice and envy.
Besides, they're getting expensive.
But I hope you'll all play in a friend-
ly spirit for the honor of winning, and
that you'll have a real good time."

Mrs. Herring ford's Party 167

Instead of applauding this speech,
Mr. Idowno looked at his watch, but
his wife pinched him and made him
put it away and take a seat at one of
the card tables.

It is impossible to repress Tama-
waca folks when they are out for a
good time — which is the only reason
they are ever out. "These people,"
whispered Lucy Kerry to her neigh-
bor, "would enjoy themselves at a
funeral." "True," was the reply;
"especially if they could pick the
corpse."

To relieve any chill in the tempera-
ture they at once began to laugh and
joke with one another, while Mrs.
McCoy and the Widow Marsh flut-
tered around to see that all were prop-
erly paired and the cards were right-
ly sorted. The game began with as
much energy as a lack of prizes would
warrant, but no effort could make it
a whirlwind of joy, so presently they
gave up the cards and played blind-

168 Tamawaca Folks

man's bluff and puss-in-the-corner.
Mrs. Herringford was worried to
death lest some one should catch her
and kiss her, but no man was so un-
gentlemanly.

Although these youthful frolics
served to while away the front of the
evening, there was no temptation to
linger very late, so when Mr. Stakes
suggested that they all "go home and
have a good time" the party was on
the verge of breaking up.

"Wait — wait!" cried Mrs. Her-
ringford. "We're going to have re-
freshments."

Being cowed by wonder and made
curious by the unexpected revelation,
they waited.

The hostess disappeared into the
kitchen.

"It hardly seems possible," mur-
mured Mrs. Purspyre, "but truth is
stranger than Mrs. Herringford. We
shall see what we shall see. Her gro-
cery bill was twenty-eight cents last

Mrs. Herring ford's Party 169

week, and she is said to have half a
million in government f our-per-cents.
Perhaps she's going to open her heart,
to prove she's alive and not a resusci-
tated Egyptian mummy, as Mr.
Wright claims she is. Let's wait."

They waited, and waited so long
that the Widow Marsh and Mrs. Mc-
Coy had hard work to prevent a stam-
pede through the front door. But
finally the hostess appeared, bearing
two plates and radiant with the joy
of generous hospitality.

"Run, Lucy and Grace and Ada
and Mary," she called, "and help me
bring in the plates. The refreshments
are all ready!"

They ran and brought in the plates.
Upon each one was placed with
dainty care one soda cracker, one
withered ginger-snap and one puffy
cracknel. The guests took the "re-
freshments" in dismal silence and be-
ban to gnaw.

"But there's no plate for you, my

i jo ^famawaca Folks

dear," said Mrs. McCoy to the host-
ess, in a solicitous tone.

"Never mind," returned the little
lady, cheerfully; "I ain't hungry, so
I guess I can wait till breakfast."

Mrs. Purspyre choked on the puffy
cracknel and was saved to the world
by a glass of water. Mrs. Herring-
ford thoughtfully brought water for
them all.

"You'll find it nice and fresh," she
said, with pardonable pride, as she
poured the precious fluid with a lavish
hand.

"Then it's different from this gin-
ger-snap," remarked Mr. Wogie,
nursing a jarred tooth.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" an-
nounced Mr. Sherlock, getting upon
his feet and waving one arm. "Let
us thank Mrs. Herringford for her
kind entertainment, which will be a
red letter event in our calendar of glo-
rious memories. This dissipation is un-
usual with us all, but I hope in no case

Mrs. Herring ford's Party 171

will it prove fatal. Once in a while
it is good for stagnant humanity to
indulge in high life and cracknels — "

"Bravo!" shouted one of the Nay-
lor girls, who had pocketed her re-
freshments to carry home as a souve-
nir.

"Therefore," concluded the orator,
"let us leave the glamour and bewild-
ering gaiety of these festivities and
seek a more common-place seclusion.
Let us thank Mrs. Herringford once
again — and go home."

"Bravo!" yelled Idowno, jumping
up, and instantly the meeting ad-
journed.

CHAPTER XIII.

RECONCILIATION.

"Mr. Jarrod," said Jim when he
went to work next morning, "father's
here."

"I've just been to call upon him,"
returned the lawyer, looking steadily
at the young man; "but you have n't."

Jim flushed.

"Does he know I'm here?" he
asked, hesitatingly.

"I told him. He did n't know it
until then. Your mother and Nellie
and May are all delighted and eager
to see you."

"And father?"

"He did not express himself as glad
or sorry. You've offended him deep-
ly, Jim."

The boy thrust his hands into his
pockets and looked thoughtful.

"I'd like to see mother," he said,
musingly. "She's as tender and sweet
172

Reconciliation 1 73

as any mother can be, Mr. Jarrod; but
the poor dear is entirely under my fa-
ther's thumb, and even his frown ter-
rifies her."

"Hm," said the lawyer. "I thought
that kind of wives became extinct
years ago."

"Mother's the old-fashioned sort,
sir. And the girls are all right, in
their way — for sisters. But dad has
a dreadful temper, and when he gets
on his high horse all I can do is to jaw
back."

"No two in a family should try to
ride the high horse at the same time,"
observed Jarrod; "and /you must re-
member that the head of the house
controls the stables. He's sick, Jim,
and his pain makes him crabbed.
Why not try to bear with him, and be
friendly?"

"That's what Susie says. Perhaps
I really ought to go up to the cottage
and call."

174 tfamawaca Folks

There's no question about it. Go

now."

Jim hesitated.

"I said I'd never darken his doors
again, you know," he intimated,
weakly.

"These are not his doors. It's
Grant's cottage."

"So it is. Well, I'll go."

He pulled his hat down over his
ears desperately, buttoned his coat in
spite of the heat, and with tense
muscles but trembling lips marched
up the hill to the Grant cottage.

Before he could knock the door flew
open and he was in his mother's arms.
The poor lady was sobbing with joy,
and led her errant son into the room
where his father sat propped with
cushions in an easy chair.

."Here's Jim!" she said, trembling
with uncertainty and a well founded
fear of the interview to follow.

Mr. Everton looked at his boy and
nodded.

Reconciliation \ 75

"Sit down, Jim," he said. The tone
was not harsh, but lacked cordiality.

Jim sat down.

"How are you, sir?"

"Pretty bad. I don't seem to find
any relief."

Once Jim had wickedly suggested
that he take his own rheumatism cure ;
but the remark had led to all their
trouble, so he twirled his hat and
answered perfunctorily :

"I'm sorry, sir."

Such mildness of demeanor ought
to have placated the father. But Ev-
erton was eyeing his son suspiciously.

"They tell me you're working. A
lawyer's clerk."

"I'm Mr. Jarrod's private secre-
tary, sir."

"Huh! Good job for a college
man, is n't it? Nice investment I
made when I sent you to Cornell."

Jim wondered what he would say
if he knew he had until recently been
a dry-goods clerk.

176 Tamawaca Folks

"Have n't you had about enough of
this two-penny folly4?" demanded his
father, more harshly.

"Oh, I've discovered that I can earn
my own living," said the boy, flush-
ing. ,

"That is n't the point. I reared
you with the expectation that you
would be of some use to me when I
grew old and feeble. That time has
arrived. I need you to help look
after the business. Look here : do you
owe nothing to me?"

Jim examined the pattern on the
rug.

"Just as much as I owe myself, sir.
Surely not more."

"Then pay your obligation to me
first, and you can do as you please
afterward."

"All right. That's fair."

His mother, who sat beside him si-
lently holding his hand, hugged him
again, and even Mr. Everton seemed
pleased by the frank answer.

Reconciliation 1 77

"You jeered at the business once,
and called it a — a fake!" resumed the
elder man, somewhat bitterly; "but
it's nothing of the sort. Every one of
the Evgrton Remedies is prepared ac-
cording to the formula of a skillful
physician, and they've helped lots of
suffering people. Is not my name
highly respected? Answer me!"

"I think it is."

"Very well. You shall be my as-
sistant and have an interest in the
business. I'll allow you ten thousand
a year."

"Good!" said Jim, brightening sud-
denly. "Then I can get married."

"Oh, Jim!" cried his mother.

"To whom, sir?" asked his father.

"Why, to Susie. Perhaps you have
n't heard of her. She's a girl I met
at Tamawaca."

"What's her other name?"

"Smith. Susie Smith," dwelling
on it lovingly.

"Smith! Well, who is she?"

178 tfamawaca Folks

"The sweetest girl in all the world,

sir.33

"Bah! Who are her people4?
Where does she come from?"

"I don't know."

"Nonsense."

"I have n't asked about her family.
Why should I, when she's all right
herself? She's stopping with Mr.
Carleton — W. E. Carleton, the rail-
way contractor. He says he knows
you."

"Well?"

"Susie lives in New York, I think,
or some Eastern city. Her mother is
dead but her father is still on deck — •
I'm positive of that, for she often
speaks of him."

"What does he do?"

"Can't imagine, I'm sure."

"Jim, you're a fool — a doddering
imbecile!"

"All right."

"Oh, Henry — please don't quar-

Reconciliation 1 79

rel!" exclaimed Mrs. Everton, begin-
ning to weep anew.

But the invalid was suffering
twinges and would not be stayed.

"You'll have to give up that girl
for good and all," he roared. "Susie
Smith! Some cheap stenographer or
a paid companion to Mrs. Carleton,
I suppose. Some designing hussy
who thinks you'll have money, and
wants to get her clutches on it. Susie
Smith! For heaven's sake, Jim, why
can't you have a little sense?"

Jim got up, slowly and with a white
face.

"Father, I don't know much about
Susie except that I love her and mean
to marry her. And I won't have you
sneer at her, even if you are ill and
bad tempered. You have no reason
to say a word against her."

"Smith!"

"I know," a smile creeping over his
face to soften its fierceness; "but I'll

180 ^famawaca Folks

change that name, pretty soon. Susie
Everton is n't so bad, is it?"

"Give her up, Jim. Don't let her
come between us."

"She's there, Dad, and you, can't
thrust her away."

"Give her up."

"I won't!"

Mrs. Everton was sobbing softly.
The invalid turned on his cushions
with a sigh. But his jaws were closed
tight and his brow bent to a frown.
Jim had quite regained his composure.

"I hope you'll soon get better, sir,"
he remarked. "I shall be in Tama-
waca for some weeks yet, and if I can
be of any help in any way, let me
know. Good bye, mother."

As he turned to go the door burst
open and Nellie and May dashed in
and threw themselves upon their
brother with glad cries and smother-
ing kisses. They were bright, pretty
girls, and Jim loved them and was
proud of them.

Reconciliation 181

"Is it all made up, Jim?" asked
Nell, anxiously.

"Not quite, little sister," smiling
at her.

"Oh, but it must be ! It's all wrong,
dear, for us to be separated this way.
Tell him so, father!" turning appeal-
ingly to the invalid.

"He refused my overtures," said
Mr. Everton, testily.

^"Oh, no!" laughed Jim; "he re-
fused my sweetheart."

The girls clapped their hands glee-
fully.

"We've heard all about it, in the
town," said one. "Oh, Jim, you lucky
boy!"

"And whom do you think it is,
Dad?" asked the other eagerly, as she
seated herself beside her father's
chair.

"I don't know; and Jim don't
know."

"But we know ! She's an old friend
of ours. We knew her at Wellesley,

182 tfamawaca Folks

and we've just called upon her and
kissed her and hugged her for
old times' sake. Father, it's Susie
Smith!"

4 'Smith!" with a snort of contempt.

'The only, only child of the great
Agamemnon Smith, the richest Stand-
ard Oil magnate after Rockefeller
himself!"

Jim fell into a chair and stared at
his father. His father stared at him.

"And that is n't all," said May,
gushingly. "Susie's as lovely as she
is rich — the sweetest, cutest, brightest
and cunningest little thing that ever
lived."

"To think that Susie Smith will be
our sister!" cried Nell, clasping her
hands ecstatically.

"And — and — Jim can change that
name of Smith, you know," faltered
poor Mrs. Everton, glancing at her
husband nervously.

The invalid roused himself and
looked up with a smile.

Reconciliation 183

"So he can," he observed, drily.
"Hang up your hat, Jim, and let's
talk it over."

Jim hung up his hat.

CHAPTER XIV.

OF COURSE.

Things settled into easy grooves at
Tamawaca.

Now that Wilder was no longer a
public autocrat people accepted him
in his new role as an humble member
of the community, according him the
consideration due any well behaved
cottager. Easton kept out of the way
for a time, and gradually folks forgot
him and regained their accustomed
cheerfulness. He had been a thorn in
their sides, but the wound soon healed
when the thorn was removed. Few
of us care to remember unpleasant
things, and communities are more gen-
erous than we are inclined to give
them the credit for being.

The "New Tamawaca" began to

arouse the interest of the cottagers,

who threw themselves heart and soul

into its regeneration. Things were

184

Of Course 185

done for the first time in the history
of the place, and done with a will and
enthusiasm that accomplished won-
ders in a brief period. Miles of ce-
ment walks were laid through the
woods, and a broad thoroughfare now
extends the length of the lake front,,
where once it was dangerous to travel
on foot. To the visitor it is the chief
charm of the place. There are new
public buildings, too, and the little
parks that were formerly dumps for
refuse are made sweet and enticing
with shrubs and flowers.

Because of all this, and the era of
prosperity that has dawned upon it,
Tamawaca is growing steadily and
many pretty cottages are springing up
on the vacant lots. One of the most
attractive of these is owned by Jim
and Susie, who have ample reason to
be fond of the delightful resort where
they had the good fortune to first
meet.

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